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O    _ 


^L 


yd 


ISIDRO 


HE   HAD  COME   UPON   HIM   SUDDENLY   (page  33) 


ISID  RO 


777 

ttV  BY 


MARY   AUSTIN 


ILLUSTRATED  BY  ERIC  PAPE 

777 
777 


Ml  BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 

HOUGHTON,   MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY 
^  THE    RIVERSIDE    PRESS,    CAMBRIDGE 

1905 

H& 


COPYRIGHT  1904  BY  MARY  AUSTIN 
ALL  RIGHTS   RESERVED 

Published  April  IQOJ 


DEDICATED   AFFECTIONATELY 

TO   MY   BROTHER 
JAMES    MILO    HUNTER 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

I.  IN  WHICH    ISIDRO   SEEKS   HIS    FORTUNE  1 

II.  NOE  AND  REINA  MARIA      ...  14 

III.  THE  HUT  OF  THE  GRAPEVINE          .  27 

IV.  THE  FATHER  PRESIDENT      ...  43 
V.  YSABEL 59 

VI.  THE  BRIAR 73 

VII.  THE  ROAD  TO  CARMELO           .        .  87 

VIII.  MASCADO 101 

IX.  IN   WHICH    NOTHING   IN    PARTICULAR 

HAPPENS 113 

X.  THE  ARREST 127 

XI.  THE  QUEST  OF  JUAN  Ruiz       .        .  140 

XII.  THE  PLACE  OF  WOLVES        .        .        .  152 

XIII.  DELFINA 164 

XIV.  LAS  CHIMINEAS 179 

XV.  THE  RESCUE 195 

XVI.  ISIDRO  COMES  TO  A  CONCLUSION  .        .  215 

XVII.  A  WEDDING  AT  SAN  ANTONIO         .  236 

XVIII.  A  COLD  TRAIL 251 

XIX.  THE  CAPTURE 271 

XX.  IN  WHICH  JACINTA  RIDES  TO  MONTEREY  287 
vii 


CONTENTS 

XXI.  A  MEETING 304 

XXII.  A  WORD  FROM  THE  MOUNTAINS  .  322 

XXIII.  HIDDEN  WATERS       .        .         .        .  336 

XXIV.  THE  LADY'S  SECOND  FLIGHT         .  352 
XXV.  IN  WHICH  MASCADO  HEARS  NEWS     .  367 

XXVI.  FOREST  FIRE         ....  381 

XXVII.  ARROYO  SECO 395 

XXVIII.  THE  END  OF  THE  TRAIL  411 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 
HE   HAD   COME   UPON   HIM   SUDDENLY  (page  33) 

Frontispiece 

"  GO  IN  PEACE,  MY  SON  " 136 

"  MEND  YOUR  FIRE,  MASCADO  "    .        .        .        .  190 

"THAT  I  SHOULD  SERVE  GOD  —  AND  YOU"         .  422 


ISIDRO 


IN  WHICH  ISIDRO  SEEKS  HIS  FORTUNE 

'T  was  the  year  of  our  Lord  18 — , 
and  the  spring  coming  on  lustily, 
when  the  younger  son  of  Antonio 
Escobar  rode  out  to  seek  his  fortune, 
singing  lightly  to  the  jingle  of  his  bit  and 
bridle  rein,  as  if  it  were  no  great  matter  for 
a  man  with  good  Castilian  blood  in  him,  and 
his  youth  at  high  tide,  to  become  a  priest ; 
rode  merrily,  in  fact,  as  if  he  already  saw 
the  end  of  all  that  coil  of  mischief  and  mur 
der  and  love,  as  if  he  saw  Padre  Saavedra  ap 
peased,  Mascado  dead,  and  himself  happy  in  his 
own  chimney  corner,  no  priest,  but  the  head  of 
a  great  house.  In  truth,  Isidro  saw  none  of 
these  things,  but  it  was  a  day  to  make  a  man 
sing,  whatever  he  saw. 

Spring  exhaled  from  the  hills,  and  the  valleys 
were  wells  of  intoxicating  balm.    Radiant  corol- 

1 


ISIDRO 

las  lapped  the  trail  and  closed  smoothly  over 
where  the  horse  trod.  A  great  body  of  warm  air 
moved  fluently  about  him,  nestling  to  the  cheek 
as  he  rode.  The  sun  glinted  warmly  on  the  lu 
cent  green  of  the  wild  oats,  on  the  burnt  gold  of 
the  poppies,  on  the  thick  silver-broidered  rim  of 
his  sombrero,  the  silver  fringe  of  his  cloak,  the 
silver  mountings  of  his  pistols,  on  the  silver  and 
jewels  of  bridle  and  spurs.  In  fact,  there  was 
more  silver  a-glitter  in  his  dress  and  harness  than 
he  carried  in  his  purse,  for  he  rode  only  to  Mon 
terey,  and  who  on  that  road  would  ask  toll  of  an 
Escobar  ? 

Baggage  he  had  next  to  none ;  a  change  of 
linen  and  such  small  matters ;  what  should  a 
priest  do  with  fine  raiment  ?  What,  indeed ;  but 
an  Escobar,  it  seemed,  might  have  much.  His 
ruffles  were  all  of  very  fine  needlework,  his  small 
clothes  of  Genoese  velvet,  his  jacket  ropy  with 
precious  embroidery,  none  so  fresh  as  it  had 
been ;  the  black  silk  kerchief  knotted  under  his 
sombrero  was  of  the  finest ;  his  saddle,  of  Mexi 
can  leather  work,  cunningly  carved.  And  this 
fine  sprig  of  an  ancient  house  was  to  be  a  priest. 

2 


ISIDRO  SEEKS  HIS  FORTUNE 

It  was  a  matter  practically  determined  upon 
before  he  was  born,  and,  being  so  settled,  Isidro 
was  complaisant.  The  case  was  this :  Mercedes 
Venegas,  a  tender  slip  of  a  girl,  as  wan  and  lovely 
as  the  rim  of  a  new  moon,  being  motherless  and 
left  to  herself  too  much,  had  vowed  herself  to 
Holy  Church  and  the  Sisterhood  of  the  Sacred 
Heart.  But  before  she  had  come  through  her 
novitiate  the  eyes  of  Antonio  Ossais  Escobar, 
roving  eyes  and  keen  for  a  maid,  had  spied  her 
out,  and  the  matter  falling  in  with  some  worldly 
plans  of  her  father,  she  had  been  drawn  back 
from  being  the  bride  of  the  Church  to  be  bride 
to  the  hot-hearted  Escobar.  Not  without  a  price, 
though.  Don  Antonio  had  been  obliged  to  sur 
render  a  good  lump  of  her  dowry  to  Holy  Church, 
with  the  further  promise,  not  certified  to,  but 
spiritually  binding,  to  give  back  of  her  issue  as 
much  as  in  herself  he  had  taken  away. 

So  the  promise  ran,  but  being  long  gone  by, 
and  himself  come  to  a  new  country,  it  is  doubt 
ful  if  the  elder  Escobar  would  have  remembered 
it  if  St.  Francis,  to  whom  he  vowed,  had  not 
mercifully  sent  him  the  gout  as  a  hint  on  that 

3 


ISIDRO 

score.  The  subject  had  come  up  off  and  on  for  a 
dozen  years  as  the  malady  ran  high  or  low,  and 
found  Isidro  in  no  wise  unkindly  disposed  to 
ward  it.  He  liked  a  red  lip,  and  had  an  eye  for 
the  turn  of  an  ankle ;  even  so  he  liked  the  wind 
in  the  sage  and  bloom  of  the  almond ;  they  stirred 
no  deeper  ardor  than  might  be  satisfied  with 
mere  looking.  He  liked  a  horse,  he  liked  a  cup 
of  wine,  and  had  an  ear  for  a  tune.  Well-a-day ! 
A  priest  might  look  at  God's  world  as  well  as 
another,  might  drink  wine  for  his  stomach's  sake, 
and  ride  of  necessity.  As  for  music,  it  pleased 
him  well,  so  it  were  fairly  executed,  whether  it 
were  a  rondeau  or  a  hymn. 

And,  on  the  other  side,  there  was  his  father, 
fond  of  a  merry  tune,  liking  wine  very  well,  a 
horse  better,  women  more  than  all  three,  and 
so  beridden  by  gout  that  he  could  have  small 
enjoyment  of  any.  All  said,  there  were  worse 
things  than  being  a  priest.  So  Isidro  Escobar, 
being  turned  twenty,  rode  out  to  Monterey,  sing 
ing  as  he  rode  a  very  proper  song  for  a  young 
man,  all  of  love  and  high  emprise,  except  that  he 
forgot  most  of  the  words,  and  went  on  making 

4 


ISIDRO  SEEKS  HIS  FORTUNE 

merry  noises  in  his  throat  in  sheer  delight  of  the 
trail  and  the  day. 

As  for  Don  Antonio,  he  thought  his  son  very 
well  suited  to  be  a  priest,  and  was  vexed  with 
him  accordingly.  It  was  a  thing  that  could  never 
have  been  said  of  him  in  his  younger  days.  Other 
times,  when  his  gout,  which  he  misread  for  his 
conscience,  troubled  him,  he  felt  it  a  satisfaction 
to  make  peace  so  handsomely  with  Holy  Church. 
If  it  had  been  Pascual  now ! 

Pascual,  who  had  ridden  as  far  as  the  home 
inclosure  with  his  brother,  and,  notwithstanding 
Isidro's  weaknesses,  was  very  fond  of  him,  was  at 
that  moment  riding  back,  looking  complacently 
at  the  tangle  of  vine  and  fig  tree  where  the  ranch 
garden  sloped  down  to  the  trail,  and  thinking 
Isidro  rather  a  fool  to  give  it  all  up  so  easily,  and 
none  so  fit  as  himself  to  be  lord  of  this  good 
demesne. 

As  for  Isidro,  he  rode  forward,  looking  not 
once  at  the  home  where  he  had  grown  up,  nor 
to  the  hills  that  he  had  known,  nor  up  the  slope 
to  the  tall  white  cross  raised  in  memory  of  Mer 
cedes  Venegas  Escobar,  whose  body  lay  in  Zaca- 

5 


ISIDRO 

tecas,  and  whose  soul  was  no  doubt  in  Paradise ; 
nor  thought  if  he  should  ever  look  on  these  again, 
nor  when,  nor  how.  He  was  not  of  the  nature 
that  looks  back.  He  looked  rather  at  the  wild 
oats,  how  they  were  tasseling ;  at  the  blue  of  the 
lupines  in  the  swale;  at  the  broods  of  the  bur 
rowing  owl  blinking  a-row  in  their  burrows,  and 
caught  up  handfuls  of  over-sweet  white  forget- 
me-nots,  stooping  lightly  from  the  saddle.  He 
answered  the  pipe  of  the  lark,  and  the  nesting 
call  of  the  quail,  gave  good-morrow  to  the  badger 
who  showed  him  his  teeth  for  courtesy,  and  to 
the  lean  coyote  who  paid  him  no  heed  whatever ; 
and  when  he  came  by  the  wash  where  old  Miguel 
set  his  traps,  turned  out  of  the  trail  to  see  if  they 
had  caught  anything.  He  found  a  fox  in  one, 
which  he  set  free,  very  pitiful  of  its  dangling 
useless  member  as  it  made  off  limpingly,  and 
finding  the  others  empty,  snapped  them  one  by 
one,  laughing  softly  to  himself. 

"  Priest's  work,"  he  said. 

That  was  Isidro  all  over.  Miguel  was  accus 
tomed  to  say  that  the  younger  Escobar  had  more 
thought  for  dumb  beasts  than  for  his  own  kind, 

6 


ISIDRO   SEEKS  HIS   FORTUNE 

though  the  lad  protested  he  would  have  helped 
Miguel  out  of  a  trap  as  readily  as  a  coyote.  To 
which  the  old  man  would  say  that  that  also  was 
Isidro.  You  could  never  make  him  angry  however 
you  might  try.  He  was  quite  as  much  amused 
over  his  inaptness  at  young  men's  accomplish 
ments  as  you  were,  and  he  could  not  be  dared  to 
try  more  than  pleased  him,  but  had  always  an 
answer  for  you.  There  could  be  no  doubt,  said 
the  men  at  his  father's  hacienda,  that  Isidro  was 
cut  out  for  a  priest. 

"  Ah,  no  doubt,"  said  the  women,  with  an 
accent  that  made  the  men  understand  that  they 
had  somehow  the  worst  of  it. 

For  all  this  they  were  sorry  to  see  him  go ; 
Margarita,  who  had  nursed  him,  wept  copiously 
in  the  kitchen  ;  the  old  Don  fretted  in  the  patio, 
and  to  hide  his  fretting  swore  heartily  at  Isidro' s 
dog  chained  in  the  kennel,  and  not  to  be  stopped 
of  his  grieving,  as  were  the  rest  of  them,  by 
thinking  what  a  fine  thing  it  would  be  to  have 
a  priest  in  the  family. 

And  all  this  time  Isidro  rode  singing  into  the 
noon  of  spring,  and  the  high  day  of  adventure. 

7 


ISIDKO 

He  crossed  the  bad  land,  lifting  his  horse  cau 
tiously  from  the  pitfalls  of  badger  and  squirrel 
holes,  scaring  the  blue  heron  from  his  watch,  and 
when  he  had  struck  firmly  into  the  foothill  trail 
laid  his  rein  on  the  horse's  neck  and  fell  into  a 
muse  concerning  the  thing  he  would  be.  He  had 
sung  of  love,  riding  out  from  Las  Plumas  in  the 
blaze  of  morning,  but  when  he  came  by  the 
place  called  The  Dove  in  the  evening  glow,  he 
sang  of  the  Virgin  Mary.  That,  too,  was  Isidro. 
His  sympathies  slipped  off  the  coil  of  things 
he  had  known,  and  shaped  themselves  to  what 
would  be.  He  had  the  fine  resonance  of  an  old 
violin  that  gives  back  the  perfect  tone ;  you 
could  not  strike  a  discord  out  of  him  unawares. 
That  was  what  made  you  love  him  when  you 
had  sat  an  hour  in  his  company,  until  you  had 
seen  him  so  sitting  with  your  dearest  foe,  and 
then  you  had  moments  of  exasperation  with  him. 
You  found  him  always  in  possession  of  your 
point  of  view ;  he  understood  at  once  what  you 
were  driving  at.  It  was  only  after  reflection 
that  you  perceived  that  he  was  not  driven.  One 
felt  convinced  he  would  make  an  excellent  con- 

8 


ISIDRO  SEEKS  HIS  FORTUNE 

f  essor.  For  all  his  quietness  he  had  his  way  with 
women,  more  even  than  Pascual,  who  swaggered 
prodigiously,  and  was  known  to  take  his  affairs 
to  heart.  Under  this  complaisance  of  mood 
there  was  a  hint  of  something  not  quite  grasped, 
something  foreign  to  an  Escobar,  like  the  brown 
lights  in  his  hair  and  the  touch  of  Saxon  rud 
diness  that  he  had  from  some  far-off  strain  of 
his  mother's. 

He  had  a  square  chin,  a  little  cleft,  a  level 
eye,  and  a  quick,  collected  demeanor  like  a  wild 
thing.  His  lower  lip,  all  of  his  mouth  not  hidden 
by  a  mustache,  had  a  trick  as  if  it  had  been 
caught  smiling  unawares.  He  was  courteous,  — 
never  more  so  than  when  least  your  friend,  but 
seldom  anything  else.  This  was  that  Isidro  who 
rode  out  from  Las  Plumas  to  be  a  priest,  and  let 
his  cigarette  die  out  between  his  fingers  while 
he  sang  a  hymn  to  the  Mother  of  God. 

He  rode  all  that  day  in  the  Escobar  demesne, 
having  a  late  start,  and  slept  the  first  night  with 
the  vaqueros  branding  calves  in  the  meadow  of 
Los  Robles.  The  next  day  at  noon  he  passed 
out  of  the  Escobar  grant.  The  trail  he  took 

9 


ISIDRO 

kept  still  to  the  east  slope  of  the  coast  range, 
and  ran  northward  through  the  spurs  of  the 
Sierritas,  by  dip  and  angle  working  up  toward 
the  summit,  whence  he  would  cross  into  the 
Salinas.  To  the  left  he  had  always  the  leopard- 
colored  hills,  and  eastward  the  vast  dim  hollow  of 
the  valley  spreading  softly  into  the  spring  haze. 
As  he  traveled,  the  shy  wild  herds  cleared  out  of 
the  wild  oats  before  him.  Jack  rabbits  ran  by 
droves  like  small  deer  in  the  chaparral.  Isidro 
sang  less  and  smoked  more,  and  fell  gradually 
into  the  carriage  and  motion  of  one  who  travels 
far  of  a  set  purpose.  The  light,  palpitating  from 
the  hollow  sky,  beat  down  his  eyelids.  His 
thoughts  drew  inward  with  his  gaze ;  he  swayed 
lightly  to  the  jogging  of  his  horse.  He  met 
Indians  —  women  and  children  and  goods  — 
roving  with  the  spring,  for  no  reason  but  that 
their  blood  prompted  them,  and  gave  them  the 
compliments  of  the  road. 

He  woke  once  out  of  a  noontide  drowse  of 
travel  at  what  promised  a  touch  of  adventure. 
In  the  glade  of  a  shallow  canon  between  the 
oaks  he  came  upon  a  red  deer  of  those  parts,  a 

10 


ISIDRO  SEEKS  HIS  FORTUNE 

buck  well  antlered  and  letting  blood  freely  from 
a  wound  in  the  throat,  that  bore  a  man  to  the 
earth  and  trampled  him.  The  man  —  a  mother- 
naked  Indian  —  had  the  buck  by  the  horns  so 
that  they  might  do  him  no  hurt,  but  at  every 
move  he  felt  the  cutting  hooves.  The  buck  put 
his  forehead  against  the  man's  chest  and  pressed 
hard,  lifting  and  dragging  him  with  no  sound 
but  the  sobbing  of  hot  breath  and  drip  of  his 
wound.  The  man  looked  in  the  brute's  eyes  and 
had  a  look  back  again,  each  thinking  of  death 
not  his  own.  Two  ravens  sat  hard  by  on  an  oak, 
expectant  but  indifferent  which  might  be  quarry. 
Doubtless  the  struggle  must  have  gone  to  the 
man,  for  he  of  the  two  had  lost  least  blood. 
The  Indian's  knife  lay  on  the  grass  within  an 
arm's  length,  but  he  dared  not  loose  his  hold  to 
reach  it.  Isidro  picked  up  the  blade  and  found 
the  buck's  heart  with  it.  Next  moment  the 
Indian  rose  up,  breathing  short  and  drenched 
with  the  warm  flood. 

"  Body  of  Christ !  friend,"  said  Isidro,  "  the 
next  deer  you  kill,  make  sure  of  it  before  you 

come  up  with  him." 

11 


ISIDRO 

Red  as  he  was,  and  covered  with  bruises,  the 
Indian,  who,  now  that  he  was  up,  showed  comely 
in  a  dark,  low-browed  sort,  and  looked  to  have 
some  foreign  blood  in  him,  began  to  disembowel 
his  kill  and  make  it  ready  for  packing. 

"  I  owe  you  thanks,  senor,"  he  said  in  good 
enough  Spanish,  but  with  no  thankfulness  of 
manner.  When  he  had  slung  as  much  as  he 
could  carry  upon  his  shoulders,  he  made  up  the 
trail,  and  Isidro,  who  felt  himself  entitled  to 
some  entertainment,  drew  rein  beside  him. 

"  Where  to,  friend  ?  "  he  said  cheerily,  since 
two  on  the  same  road  go  better  than  one. 

"  I  follow  the  trail,  senor,"  said  the  man,  and 
so  surlily  that  Isidro  concluded  there  was  nothing 
to  be  looked  for  from  that  quarter. 

"  Priest's  work  again,"  he  said,  "  to  do  a  good 
deed  and  get  scant  thanks  for  it.  Truly  I  begin 
well,"  and  he  rode  laughing  up  the  trail. 

Toward  evening  he  crossed  a  mesa,  open  and 
falling  abruptly  to  the  valley,  of  a  mile's  breadth 
or  more,  very  fragrant  with  sage  and  gilias 
opening  in  the  waning  light.  The  sound  of  bells 
came  faintly  up  to  him  with  the  blether  of  sheep 

12 


ISIDRO  SEEKS  HIS  FORTUNE 

from  the  mesa's  edge  that  marked  the  progress 
of  a  flock.  Against  the  slanting  light  he  made 
out  the  forms  of  shepherds  running,  it  seemed, 
and  in  some  commotion.  They  came  together, 
and  one  ran  and  the  other  drew  up  with  him, 
halting  and  parting  as  in  flight  and  pursuit. 
And  across  the  clear  space  of  evening  something 
reached  him  like  an  exhalation,  a  presage,  a 
sense  of  evil  where  no  evil  should  be.  He  would 
have  turned  out  of  the  trail,  being  used  to  trust 
his  instinct,  but  he  could  not  convince  himself 
that  this  matter  was  for  his  minding.  How 
should  an  Escobar  concern  himself  with  two 
sheep-herders  chasing  coyotes? 

Presently,  looking  back  from  a  rise  of  land, 
he  saw  the  flock  spread  out  across  the  mesa,  and 
one  shepherd  moving  his  accustomed  round. 

"Now  on  my  life,"  said  Isidro,  "I  would 
have  sworn  there  were  two,"  and  again  some 
instinct  pricked  him  vaguely. 


n 


NOE  AND  REINA  MARIA 

HE  sheep  which  Isidro  had  seen 
feeding  at  evening  belonged  to 
Mariano,  the  Portuguese.  His 
house  stood  in  a  little  open 
plain  having  a  pool  in  the 
midst,  treeless,  and  very  lonely,  called  The 
Reed ;  his  sheep  fed  thence  into  the  free  lands 
as  far  as  might  be.  The  Portuguese  was  old, 
he  was  rich,  he  was  unspeakably  dirty,  and  a 
man  of  no  blood.  The  Escobars,  who  knew 
him  slightly,  used  him  considerately,  because 
manners  were  becoming  to  an  Escobar,  not  be 
cause  the  old  miser  was  in  any  wise  worth  con 
sidering.  Mariano  was  not  known  to  have  any 
one  belonging  to  him ;  his  house  was  low  and 
mean,  thatched  with  tules,  having  a  floor  of 
stamped  earth ;  his  dress  and  manners  what 
might  have  been  expected.  Those  who  wished  to 
say  nothing  evil  of  him  could  find  nothing  better 

14 


NOE  AND   REINA   MARIA 

to  say  than  that  he  was  diligent;  those  who 
would  speak  of  him  only  with  contempt  found 
nothing  worse.  He  was  reputed  to  have  at  his 
bed's  head  a  great  box  full  of  gold  and  silver 
pieces,  —  and  yet  he  worked  !  It  was  predicted 
of  him  that  because  of  his  riches  he  would  have 
a  foul  ending,  and  as  yet  he  had  not.  There  you 
have  the  time  and  the  people.  Mariano  was  openly 
a  hoarder  of  gold,  and  was  not  robbed ;  he  was 
diligent  without  need,  and  therefore  scorned. 

His  sheep  were  in  three  brands,  and  Mariano 
kept  the  tale  of  them.  He  had  with  him,  keeping 
the  home  flock,  one  Juan  Ruiz,  a  mongrel  as 
to  breed,  who  spoke  Spanish,  Portuguese,  and 
French  indifferently  well,  and  believed  himself  a 
very  fine  fellow.  Mariano  used  toward  him  an 
absence  of  surliness  that  amounted  to  kindliness, 
therefore  it  was  reported  that  Ruiz  had  some 
claim  upon  him.  The  herder  in  his  cups  had 
been  known  to  hint  broadly  that  there  was  more 
likeness  than  liking  between  them.  Whatever 
the  case,  Ruiz  bore  him  a  deep-seated  grudge. 
Mariano,  as  I  have  said,  was  old,  and  growing 
older,  and  boozy  with  drink  was  not  a  proper 

15 


ISIDKO 

spectacle  to  be  the  proprietor  of  fleeces  and  gold ; 
and  Ruiz,  who  was  a  pretty  fellow  in  his  own 
fashion,  and  loved  frippery  inordinately,  was 
poor.  What  more  would  you  have  ?  If  ever 
there  was  a  man  fitted  to  make  ducks  and  drakes 
of  a  fortune  it  was  Ruiz,  but  in  this  case  the 
fortune  lay  in  a  strong  box  at  the  head  of  his 
master's  bed. 

On  the  day  that  Isidro  Escobar  came  riding 
across  the  mesa  where  Ruiz  fed  the  flock,  Ma 
riano,  who  trusted  no  one  very  much,  came  down 
to  see  how  they  fared,  and  to  bring  supplies  to 
his  shepherd.  Among  other  things  he  brought 
wine ;  I  have  said  there  was  the  appearance  of 
kindliness  on  Mariano's  side.  It  was  the  wine  of 
San  Gabriel,  heady  and  cordial  to  the  blood. 
They  pieced  out  the  noon  siesta  with  a  bottle, 
and  grew  merry.  Ruiz  clapped  Mariano  on  the 
shoulder  and  called  him  kin ;  the  Portuguese  ad 
mitted  that  he  had  known  Ruiz's  mother.  They 
sang  together,  they  laughed,  finally  they  wept. 
That  was  when  they  were  beginning  the  second 
bottle.  When  they  had  no  more  than  half  done, 
Ruiz  remembered  his  grievance  and  brooded  over 

16 


NOE  AND  REINA  MARIA 

it  darkly,  and  in  the  third  bottle  he  killed  Mari 
ano, — not  all  at  once  as  you  might  say  the  word, 
but,  provoked  him,  broiled  with  him,  pricked  him 
blunderingly  with  his  knife.  Mariano,  who  was 
leery  with  drink  half  his  days,  and  had  no  hint 
of  the  other's  grievance,  on  which  point  Ruiz 
himself  was  by  now  not  quite  clear,  was  in  no 
case  to  deal  with  the  affair.  At  last,  sobered  a 
little  by  blood-letting,  he  became  afraid  and  ran. 
This  with  beasts  of  the  Ruiz  order  was  the  worst 
thing  to  do.  Pursuit  whetted  him.  So  they  ran 
and  wrestled  futilely  and  struck  blindly,  for  the 
drink  worked  in  them  yet,  but  Ruiz's  knife,  be 
cause  he  was  heaviest  and  longest  of  arm,  bit  of- 
tenest  and  to  the  bone.  It  was  the  dust  of  their 
running  that  Isidro  saw  across  the  evening  glow. 
Between  drink  and  bleeding  they  feh1  headlong 
into  the  scrub,  panting  like  spent  beasts.  But 
Mariano,  having  bled  most,  was  most  sobered, 
and  began  to  crawl  away,  and  Ruiz,  when  he  had 
come  to  himself  a  little,  began  to  work  after  him 
on  his  wet  trail  with  the  knife  between  his  teeth, 
leering  through  a  mist  of  rage  and  drink.  If  he 
had  no  grievance  before,  that  was  enough. 

17 


ISIDRO 

"  Ha,  you  will  leave  me,  hell  litter?  "  he  said ; 
and  so,  voiding  curses,  he  reeled  and  came  up  to 
him,  plunging  his  knife  in  Mariano's  back.  The 
Portuguese  fell  forward  with  a  wet  cough,  and 
the  poppies,  drowned  in  blood,  shrank  all  away 
from  him. 

Ruiz,  for  his  part,  went  back  to  find  the  dregs 
of  the  bottle.  He  was  very  merry  with  himself 
about  Mariano  lying  out  in  the  sage  like  a  stuck 
pig.  "  Ah,  ah !  but  it  served  him  right,  setting 
up  for  a  rich  man,  who  had  neither  manners  nor 
wit,  nor  looks,  — no,  certainly  not  looks."  Then 
he  observed  his  own  wounds,  and  grew  fright 
ened  to  see  them  bleed;  grew  very  pitiful  of 
himself,  washing  and  binding  them;  blubbered 
over  them,  thinking  new  grievances  of  Mariano, 
who  would  so  misuse  him.  So  he  wept,  sitting  on 
a  hummock  waist  deep  in  bloom,  until  the  day 
drew  into  dusk,  and  the  dogs  and  the  flock  clam 
ored  for  their  evening  care. 

"  Eh  ?  —  Oh,  —  go  to  Mariano  out  there,"  he 
said ;  "  he  is  master,"  and  laughed,  thinking  it 
a  very  fine  jest,  and  afterwards  wept  again,  and 
so  fell  into  a  mindless  sleep. 

18 


NOE   AND   REINA   MARIA 

It  was  in  the  hope  and  promise  of  dawn  when 
he  awoke.  The  sky  paled  slowly  ;  here  and  there 
peaks  swam  into  rosy  glow  above  the  cool  dark. 
He  felt  the  stiffness  of  his  wounds,  and  groaned, 
remembering  —  what?  —  that  Mariano  lay  out 
there  in  the  scrub.  It  was  a  deep  sleep  he  kept 
oat  there  between  the  poppies  and  the  sage ;  he 
looked  not  to  have  stirred  all  night.  It  was  a 
joke  between  them  that  Mariano  would  play  out 
to  the  end.  Ruiz  went  about  the  morning  meal 
fumblingly.  The  sky  filled  and  filled ;  pale  slits 
of  light  between  the  rifts  began  to  streak  the 
floor  of  the  plain.  By  the  spring  a  mourning 
dove  began  to  call.  The  dogs  shrank  uneasily ; 
they  looked  at  the  figure  of  Mariano,  and  now  it 
seemed  to  stir,  and  now  did  not.  Noe  put  his 
nose  to  the  air  and  moaned  with  a  hushed  noise 
in  his  throat.  Ruiz  wished  to  make  haste,  but 
seemed  intolerably  slow.  He  strayed  out  toward 
the  still  body  as  the  day  warmed  him  and  cleared 
the  mists  of  drink.  "  Get  up,  Mariano,"  he  be 
gan  to  say,  but  fell  off  into  whispering ;  a  patch 
of  sun  lit  the  blackened  poppies,  and  his  ear 
caught  the  burr-r-r  of  flies. 

19 


ISIDRO 

Without  doubt  the  habit  of  a  man's  work 
stands  him  in  good  stead;  whatever  had  come  to 
Mariano  there  was  still  the  flock.  They  were 
scattering  northward,  and  Noe  and  Reina  Maria 
had,  it  appeared,  little  mind  for  their  work,  but 
they  heard  the  shepherd's  voice  and  answered  it. 
To  bring  the  sheep  together  in  good  form  took 
them  a  flock's  length  farther  from  Mariano.  It 
is  probable  Juan  Kuiz  had  not  thought  till  then 
what  he  should  do,  but  now  this  was  the  thing, 
—  to  get  away ;  to  get  shut  of  the  sight  and 
nearness  of  the  dead. 

He  began  to  push  the  sheep  into  the  hills, 
crossed  the  trail,  and  struck  up  over  a  sharp 
ridge.  His  progress  grew  into  hurry,  his  hurry 
to  a  fever  of  flight.  He  pressed  the  sheep  un 
mercifully  ;  bells  jangled  up  the  steeps  and  down 
into  hollows  by  paths  that  only  sheep  could  have 
taken,  by  places  where  were  no  paths,  and  at  last 
he  wearied  them  beyond  going.  He  was  by  this 
time  beside  himself.  They  came  to  an  open  hill- 
slope  above  a  stream,  thick  and  slippery  with  new 
grass.  The  shepherd  instinct  told  him  the  sheep 
must  rest  and  feed,  but  his  mind  gave  him  no 

20 


NOE  AND  REINA  MARIA 

rest.  He  killed  a  lamb  and  fed  the  dogs,  and 
since  he  had  eaten  nothing  that  day,  ate  also, 
and  made  out  to  spend  the  night.  He  was  be 
yond  the  country  of  the  burrowing  owls ;  there 
was  no  sound  other  than  the  eager  cropping  of 
the  sheep.  There  came  a  wind  walking  across 
the  grasses  that  made  the  shadows  stir,  and  in 
every  patch  of  shadow  were  dead  men  trembling 
to  arise,  struggling  and  twisting  so  they  might 
come  at  him.  So  it  seemed  to  Ruiz.  He  got  his 
back  to  a  rock  and  shuddered  into  sleep.  He 
woke  after  an  hour  or  two  and  began  to  think. 
He  was  neither  clear  nor  quick  in  his  mind,  but 
by  and  by  he  thrashed  the  matter  out  somewhat 
in  this  fashion. 

It  was  not  likely  Mariano  would  be  missed, 
or,  if  missed,  found  again ;  by  now  the  coyotes 
should  be  at  him.  And  if  found,  what  then? 
There  was  no  witness.  The  dogs  ?  Ah,  yes ! 
They  had  carried  themselves  strangely  toward 
him  that  day.  All  through  his  sleep  he  had 
heard  Noe  keening  the  dead  master  with  a 
mournful  howl.  The  faith  a  shepherd  grows  to 
have  in  the  understanding  of  his  dogs  passes 

21 


ISIDRO 

belief.  It  is  equal  to  his  assurance  of  their  ability 
to  make  themselves  understood.  Ruiz  was  afraid 
of  Noe  and  Reina  Maria.  The  sheep  also  had 
Mariano's  mark ;  but  if  he  got  shut  of  all  these, 
what  was  there  to  accuse  him  ?  Above  all,  his 
desire  moved  him  to  get  away  and  away,  and  to 
mix  with  his  own  kind.  There  was  a  very  duh1 
sort  of  cunning  in  this  that  did  not  at  first  profit 
him.  He  had  to  battle  with  the  shepherd  habit 
to  stay  by  the  flock.  Unconsciously  he  had  worked 
all  day  against  it,  but  the  fear  of  dead  men 
walking  in  the  dark  also  held  him  still.  With  all 
this  he  gave  no  thought  to  the  great  box  of 
reals  lying  unguarded  in  the  hut  of  Mariano. 
About  the  hour 'the  night  breeze  fell  off  before 
dawn  he  left  the  flock  on  the  hill,  and  began  to 
strike  along  the  ridge  by  ways  he  knew,  to  come 
into  Monterey  from  the  north,  which  he  hoped  to 
do  in  four  days.  He  left  the  dead  and  the  wit 
nesses,  and  carried  his  guilt  openly  in  his  face. 

What  happened  to  No€  and  Reina  Maria  with 
the  flock  is  a  matter  of  record.  Mascado,  the  In 
dian  renegade,  for  purposes  of  his  own  tracked 
them  from  the  day  they  struck  the  rancheria  of 

22 


NOE  AND   REINA   MARIA 

Peter  Lebecque,  backward  to  where  he  found  the 
body  of  Mariano,  big  and  overblown  by  flies. 
There  was  nothing  to  tell  from  it  except  that  it 
had  been  a  man.  The  flock,  it  seemed,  must 
have  stayed  upon  the  hill  that  day,  or  near  it, 
forging  forward  a  little  by  the  trail  Ruiz  had 
taken.  The  dogs  ate  of  the  lamb  that  he  had 
killed,  and  kept  the  flock  close.  They  went  on 
a  little  from  there  doubtfully,  but  presently,  it 
seemed,  they  made  certain,  by  what  gift  God 
knows,  that  the  shepherd  would  not  return. 
They  headed  the  flock  toward  the  place  of  The 
Reed,  where  they  had  been  bred.  It  is  not 
known  if  they  had  any  food  after  the  first  day  ; 
they  had  not  been  taught  killing.  The  second 
night  brought  them  —  for  they  made  pace  slowly 
—  to  a  very  close-grown  and  woody  stretch  of 
country  all  a-tumble  of  great  boulders  among 
the  trees.  They  found  themselves  brought  up 
against  a  crisis.  Through  the  middle  of  this 
copse  ran  a  stream  full  and  roaring  from  the 
rains.  What  urgency  they  used  —  Reina  Maria 
who  was  old  in  the  wisdom  of  herding  and  Noe 
who  was  young  —  could  not  be  guessed.  Suffi- 

23 


ISIDRO 

cient  that  they  got  the  flock  so  near  the  crossing 
that  some  two  or  three  were  drowned.  But  they 
could  do  no  more ;  they  went,  perforce,  upstream. 
Here  is  a  matter  for  wonder,  and  made  talk  in 
sheep  camps  wherever  the  dogs  of  Del  Mar  — 
for  they  were  of  that  breed  —  were  known.  The 
Reed  lay  nearest  as  the  crow  flies  going  down 
stream  ;  the  only  hope  of  crossing  lay  upstream, 
where  there  might  be  shallows,  and  that  way  they 
took.  Here  it  seems  was  a  disagreement.  They 
were  hungry,  no  doubt,  overwrought,  and  one  of 
them  loved  himself  more  than  the  flock.  It  was 
a  question  of  saving  the  sheep  who  did  very  well, 
or  saving  their  own  skins.  Noe  would  and  Reiria 
Maria  would  not.  So  they  fought,  faint  and 
a-hungered,  one  for  himself  and  the  other  for  the 
flock,  and  the  silly  sheep  strayed  bleating  through 
the  scrub.  The  battle  went  to  Reina  Maria ;  it 
was  Noe,  when  succor  found  them,  that  showed 
most  wounds.  So  they  worked  the  flock  up  the 
waterside,  which  here  ran  parallel  to  a  foot  trail, 
toward  the  traveled  roads.  They  had  been  four 
days  from  Mariano,  two  of  them  without  food, 
and  had  come  twenty  miles. 

24 


NOE  AND  REINA  MARIA 

In  the  mean  time  Isidro  Escobar  had  hardly 
come  more.  From  the  oak  shelter  where  he  had 
slept  the  second  night  of  his  journey  he  had  set 
out  leisurely  to  Los  Alamos,  which  he  made  by 
noon.  That  was  the  day  Ruiz  was  hurrying  his 
flock  across  country  by  steeper  ways  than  the 
accustomed  trail.  Between  the  Escobars  and  the 
family  at  Los  Alamos  there  was  amnesty  and 
observance.  It  lay  out  of  the  trail  somewhat,  but 
not  too  far  for  the  courtesy  of  an  Escobar.  By^N 
all  the  laws  of  hospitality  Isidro  should  have  / 
stayed  a  month,  but  contented  himself  with  three 
days,  pleading  his  appointment  with  Padre  Saa- 
vedra,  and  the  urgence  of  his  new  calling,  which 
now  began  to  sit  becomingly  upon  him. 

He  was,  therefore,  pushing  merrily  along  the 
trail  that  rounded  a  barren  hill  running  like  a 
cape  into  a  lake  of  woods  that  gave  off  a  contin 
uous  murmuring.  He  was  riding  fast,  not  certain 
where  he  should  rest,  or  if,  in  fact,  he  would 
have  any  shelter  but  his  cloak,  and  gave  no  atten 
tion  to  the  way.  Toward  mid-afternoon  he  heard 
afar  the  slow,  incessant  jangle  of  bells  that  be 
spoke  a  moving  flock.  It  promised  him  other 

25 


ISIDRO 

things,  —  a  meal  and  company,  at  least.  The 
wood  was  scattered  more,  and  marked  by  an  ab 
sence  of  underbrush.  Between  the  boles  of  oak 
were  grassy  plats,  in  one  of  which  he  looked  to 
find  the  sheep  camp.  By  the  rising  of  the  ground 
whereon  the  wood  stood,  and  the  dipping  of  the 
trail,  he  could  not  see  very  far  into  it,  but  the 
sound  lay  still  ahead  of  him ;  so,  with  no  other 
warning,  when  the  ridge  of  westward  hills  began 
to  make  a  twilight  gloom  in  the  gully,  he  came 
suddenly  upon  the  flock,  Noe,  and  Reina  Maria. 


Ill 


THE  HUT  OF  THE  GRAPEVINE 


was  an  owner  of  sheep,  one 
bred  to  an  open  life,  and  no  fool. 
He  made  sure  on  the  instant  that 
there  was  no  shepherd  about.  Want 
ing  other  witness,  the  behavior  of  the  dogs 
would  have  told  him  that.    To  make  doubly 
sure  he  raised  a  shout  that  rang  and  rang 
among  the  tree  boles  and   the  rocks,  and 
brought  no  answer. 

He  looked  the  flock  over  and  found  them 
sleek  ;  the  brand  he  thought  he  had  seen,  but 
could  not  be  sure.  Then  he  came  to  the  dogs ; 
here  was  evidence.  They  looked  gaunt  and  wolf 
ish-eyed  ;  they  had  wounds,  —  Noe  was  caked 
with  blood  about  the  throat.  Isidro  thought 
they  bore  the  marks  of  wolf's  teeth  or  coyote's. 
They  fawned  upon  him  with  short,  gulping 
barks  and  throaty  whines,  glad  and  wishful  at 
once  in  an  intolerable  speechlessness.  Properly 

27 


ISIDRO 

they  should  have  stood  off  from  him  and  left 
parleying  to  the  shepherd.  The  absence  of  such 
reserve  was  the  best  evidence  that  they  under 
stood  the  fact,  if  not  the  reason,  of  their  deser 
tion.  Something  of  what  they  had  suffered  they 
told  Isidro  in  then-  dumb  way,  which  was  a  very 
good  way,  since  it  touched  him.  His  first  move, 
done  quickly  to  take  advantage  of  the  waning 
day,  was  to  cast  a  wide  circle  about  the  flock,  to 
pick  up  the  trail  of  the  vanished  shepherd.  He 
found  the  way  the  sheep  had  come  with  Noe  and 
Reina  Maria,  but  found  nothing  more.  At  the 
first  motion  of  riding  away  Noe  had  set  up  a  thin 
howl,  but  Reina  .Maria  had  the  faith  of  her  sex. 
She  waited  the  event. 

(t  So,"  said  Isidro,  "  it  seems  there  is  no  com 
pany  where  I  looked  to  find  it,  and  no  fire, 
though  a  fire  would  be  a  comfort,  and  no  food, 
but  great  need  of  feeding."  It  was  quite  dusk  in 
the  wood,  where  the  earth  was  all  a  litter  of  rot 
ten  leaves.  The  ripples  of  the  stream,  which  at 
this  point  ran  shallowly  in  a  rocky  bed,  began  to 
climb  above  the  hushed  noises  of  the  day ;  the 
air  had  a  feel  of  dampness.  Isidro  made  his 

28 


THE   HUT   OF   THE   GRAPEVINE 

horse  comfortable  by  the  stream  border,  where 
there  was  a  cropping  of  fresh  grass,  and  lit  a  fire 
of  twigs.  He  thought  of  supper  and  then  of  the 
dogs,  for  they  looked  to  have  suffered  much. 
He  killed  a  lamb  for  them  bunglingly,  as  not  be 
ing  used  to  such  work,  spattering  his  ruffles  with 
blood,  and  was  pleased  to  see  them  feed.  They 
were  in  a  fair  way  to  get  a  taste  for  new  mutton. 

"  My  faith ! "  said  he,  watching  their  raven 
ing,  "  is  it  so  long  as  that  ?  " 

Isidro  set  to  work  to  piece  out  the  circum 
stance.  Whatever  had  befallen  the  shepherd  it 
could  not  be  Indians,  since  these  would  hardly 
have  spared  the  flock ;  nor  wild  beasts,  though 
the  wounds  of  Noe  hinted  at  that.  It  was  not 
possible  that  a  beast  which  could  carry  off  a  man 
would  let  the  dogs  go  free.  Besides,  the  sheep 
were  too  sleek,  too  little  uneasy ;  they  had  had 
no  fright,  as  would  have  shown  in  the  case  of  an 
attack  by  wolves  or  bears.  The  only  thing  that 
was  clear  was  the  devotion  of  Noe  and  Reina 
Maria. 

"  Good  dogs,"  said  Isidro,  and  praised  them 
to  their  fill,  though  in  an  unfamiliar  speech. 

29 


ISIDRO 

The  bells  of  the  sheep  made  a  friendly  tinkle ; 
the  flock  drowsed  ;  the  dogs  dressed  their  wounds 
by  the  fire.  Isidro  heaped  him  a  bed  of  dried 
fern  and  slept  deep. 

He  awoke  in  the  morning  twilight ;  all  the 
wood  was  astir  with  wild  pigeons,  —  soft,  slaty 
blue  like  the  sky.  The  flock  was  out  and  feed 
ing  up  the  stream ;  Noe  and  Reina  Maria  stood 
for  orders.  Here  was  a  bother.  There  was  no 
mistaking  the  attitude  of  the  dogs,  —  they  had 
shifted  their  responsibility. 

Caramba !  Was  an  Escobar  to  turn  herder, 
and  go  straggling  into  the  Presidio  of  Monterey 
with  a  flock  not  his  own  at  his  heels?  It  was 
a  pity,  of  course,  but  clearly  not  a  case  for  his 
intervention.  So  Isidro ;  not  so  Noe  and  Reina 
Maria.  When  the  man  put  his  horse  to  the  ford 
they  brought  up  the  flock  that,  also  reassured 
by  the  man's  presence,  began  to  get  over  in  a 
silly  fashion.  Directly  they  had  a  hint  of  a  new 
desertion.  It  went  hard  with  the  dogs  at  first 
in  the  shock  to  a  free-given  faith.  They  were 
checked,  bewildered.  Noe  yelped  dismally,  and 
then  frankly  deserted  the  flock  for  the  man. 

30 


THE    HUT   OF  THE   GRAPEVINE 

But  Reina  Maria  ran  to  and  fro  between  him 
and  her  charge,  back  and  forth  with  tongue 
wagging  out  and  red,  wearied  eyes,  harrying  the 
flock  and  fawning  on  the  man,  not  daunted,  but 
persisting  until  she  had  won  his  understanding 
and  rested  the  case  upon  the  facts.  She  was  fit 
to  burst  with  running  and  eagerness.  A  hundred 
rods  or  so  of  this,  and  Isidro  wheeled  back  in  a 
kind  of  comical  dismay. 

"  Your  way,  my  lady !  "  he  cried.  "  Jesus  !  but 
I  will  make  poor  work  of  being  a  priest  if  I  re 
fuse  such  begging.  Thou  art  a  faithful  beast." 

"  A  priest  is  a  shepherd  in  some  sort,"  he  said 
later,  moving  with  the  flock  slowly  in  the  morn 
ing  freshness,  "  but  I  doubt  the  herder  has  the 
easier  time  of  it."  The  difficulties  of  the  work 
came  home  to  him  presently.  Thus  far  he  had 
followed  the  trail,  which  grew  steep  and  stony  in 
a  great  tangle  of  brush.  The  light  lay  level  with 
the  hills  and  too  warm.  The  sheep  scattered  in 
the  brush,  and  the  dogs  were  plainly  fagged. 

To  keep  the  trail  grew  nearly  impossible ;  be 
sides,  it  seemed  little  likely  to  afford  pasture. 

"My  friends,"  said  Isidro,  "it  is  clear  we 
31 


ISIDRO 

shall  get  nowhere  at  this  rate,  and  seeing  I  am 
new  to  the  business  and  likely  to  make  a  mess 
of  it,  do  you  be  so  kind  as  to  lead  the  way." 

No  doubt  communication  between  man  and 
beast  is  helped  by  speech,  but  it  is  not  indispen 
sable.  Noe  and  Reina  Maria  knew  only  Portu 
guese  and  a  little  French,  Isidro  only  Castilian, 
but  somehow  there  passed  from  each  to  each 
some  assurance,  sense  of  understanding.  Gradu 
ally  the  dogs  assumed  the  responsibility  of  the 
flocks,  growing  assured  as  they  felt  themselves 
free  and  Isidro  following.  They  passed  out  of 
the  thickets,  turned  north  along  an  open  ridge, 
and  by  noon  made  a  little  grassy  swale,  through 
which  the  rill  of  a  spring  ran  unseen,  though  you 
heard  it  talking  in  the  grass.  Beyond  that  was 
rolling  country,  nearly  treeless,  lush  with  wild 
oats,  bordered  with  poppies,  holding  little  lakes 
of  white  forget-me-nots  in  coves  of  the  hills. 

The  grass  grew  up  tall,  and  muffled  the  bells 
of  the  sheep.  Then  began  trees  again,  —  buck 
eyes  bursting  into  bloom,  water  oaks  strung  with 
long,  pendulous  vines  misty  with  bloom.  Deer 
stood  up  in  the  open  places ;  a  band  of  antelope 

32 


THE  HUT  OF  THE   GRAPEVINE 

flashed  by  them,  three  coyotes  behind  them  in 
full  chase ;  they  came  upon  two  tawny  cats  at 
their  mating  in  the  clear  warm  space  before  a 
rocky  wall.  They  saw  no  man,  neither  shepherd 
nor  Indian,  nor  any  trace  of  one.  Those  were 
the  days  when  men  shifted  for  themselves  with 
out  finiken.  So  long  as  the  flock  lasted  and  he 
had  the  means  of  a  fire  —  it  was  still  the  time 
ot  flint  and  tinder  —  they  would  not  lack  food, 
and  for  shelter  Isidro  had  his  cloak.  But  by 
the  time  the  light  had  got  a  yellow  tinge  from 
shining  slantwise  on  the  poppy  fires,  they  came 
upon  a  better  shift.  Under  an  oak,  mocking  the 
jays  with  as  shrill  a  voice,  sat  a  slim,  dark  lad, 
pillowed  on  a  great  sheaf  of  plucked  bloom. 

For  excuse  of  his  being,  a  small  flock,  lacking 
a  brand,  fed  thereabout,  minded  by  a  mongrel 
cur  that  looked  more  for  killing  than  herding, 
but  nevertheless  came  and  went  obediently  at 
the  lad's  word.  So  much  Isidro  perceived  at  the 
first  onset ;  for  the  rest,  since  he  had  come  upon 
him  suddenly,  Isidro  found  himself  enough  to 
do  to  turn  aside  his  own  sheep  so  that  the  two 
bands  might  not  mix,  —  a  matter  in  which  the 

33 


< 


ISIDRO 

lad  spent  no  pains.  He  stood  up,  though,  and 
seeing  him  not  likely  to  begin,  Isidro  fetched  a 
very  courteous  bow. 

"  Serior,"  he  said,  "  will  you  do  me  the  favor 
to  tell  me  whose  sheep  I  have,  and  whither  they 
would  go  ?  " 

"  That,"  said  the  lad, "  you  should  know  better 
than  I.  Keep  back  your  sheep,  sir ;  if  they  mix, 
the  parting  out  will  be  no  sport." 

"  Your  pardon,  senor ;  so  I  should  judge,  but 
I  am  newly  come  into  the  business,  and  the  dogs 
do  not  understand  Castilian." 

The  herd-boy  spoke  some  words  of  diverse 
tongues,  mongrel  speech  of  the  mixed  peoples 
that  come  together  in  a  new  land,  and  lighted 
upon  those  that  the  dogs  understood,  for  they 
went  at  their  work  with  quickened  apprehension. 
The  lad  got  his  own  band  behind  him,  and 
started  them  moving. 

"As  for  the  flock,  senor,"  he  said,  " whose 
should  they  be  if  not  yours,  unless  you  have 
stolen  them?" 

"  My  faith,  you  have  a  tongue  !  "  cried  Isidro ; 
"  but  as  for  stealing,  it  appears  that  they  have 

34 


THE  HUT   OF  THE   GRAPEVINE 

stolen  me,  since  they  have  taken  me  out  of  my 
way  so  that  I  know  not  how  I  shall  come  at  it, 
nor  what  to  do  with  them." 

"  You  speak  riddles,  senor." 

"  Then  I  will  speak  more  to  the  point ;  "  where 
upon  he  told  him  straightly  how  he  came  upon 
the  flock  and  what  followed. 

"  The  brand  is  Mariano's,"  said  the  boy,  "  and 
the  dogs  I  think  I  have  seen.  Noe  ?  "  he  ques 
tioned,  and  the  dog  fawned  upon  him.  "  They 
are  Mariano's  sheep,  and  the  dogs  belonged  to 
Juan  Ruiz.  They  passed  a  fortnight  since.  Strange 
work." 

"I  know  none  stranger,"  said  Isidro  with 
much  gravity  ;  "  and  since  you  know  their  owner, 
who  is  no  doubt  much  distressed  on  their  ac 
count,  will  you  do  me  the  favor  to  restore  them  ? 
I  will  give  you  two  reals  for  your  trouble,  and 
the  Portuguese  will  scarcely  do  less." 

The  boy  knit  his  brows  with  quick  darting 
scorn.  "  The  senor  does  not  understand  these 
things.  Juan  Ruiz  has  doubtless  come  to  some 
hurt.  Suppose  the  Portuguese  comes  upon  me 
unawares  with  his  dogs  and  his  sheep.  Will  he 

35 


ISIDRO 

believe  me  if  I  say  I  had  them  from  a  fine  gen 
tleman  in  the  woods  ?  " 

"  As  well  your  story  as  mine/'  said  Isidro, 
beginning  to  be  vastly  amused.  He  rolled  a 
cigarette  and  leaned  against  his  horse,  waiting. 
The  boy  frowned,  and  thought.  When  he  spoke 
again  it  was  with  a  curious  apathy,  as  if  he  had 
somehow  come  free  of  the  whole  affair. 

"  If  the  senor  will  but  come  with  me/'  he  said. 

"As  well  with  you  as  anywhere/'  cried  Isidro 
with  the  greatest  cheerfulness.  Seeing  the  boy 
moving  before  him  with  the  flock,  Isidro  took 
thought  of  him.  He  was  slightly  built  for  his 
age,  which  looked  to  be  fifteen,  and  was  clothed 
for  the  most  part  in  very  good  woven  stuff,  cut 
after  no  fashion  but  convenience,  wore  moccasins, 
and  about  his  calves  strips  of  buckskin  wrapped 
many  times,  Indian  fashion.  He  had  black  hair 
cropped  at  the  shoulders,  and  falling  so  as  to 
leave  visible  only  a  thin  disk  of  face,  dark  and 
ruddy-colored.  He  stood  straightly,  and  had  the 
fine,  level-looking  eyes  of  an  Indian,  though  no 
Indian,  as  was  plain  to  see.  About  his  brows  he 
wore  a  rag  of  red  silk,  in  which  were  tucked  vine 

36 


THE   HUT   OF  THE   GRAPEVINE 

leaves  for  coolness ;  under  this  penthouse  his 
eyes  were  alert  and  unfrightened  as  a  bird's. 

They  went  sidelong  on  a  ridge,  avoiding  a 
deep  canon,  and  came  clear  of  trees.  Presently 
they  reached  the  head  of  a  long,  winding  shal 
low  that  should  have  held  a  stream,  but  flowed 
only  a  river  of  grass  and  bloom.  Down  this  the 
sheep  poured  steadily  as  if  it  had  been  a  lane, 
and  Isidro  found  space  for  conversation. 

"  Your  sheep?"  said  he. 

"  Peter  Lebecque's." 

"  And  who  may  Peter  Lebecque  be  ?  I  have 
not  heard  of  him,  and  I  thought  to  know  these 
hills." 

"  And  who  may  you  be  that  should  know  such 
humble  folk?"  quoth  the  shepherd  lad. 

"My  faith,"  thought  Isidro,  "but  this  is  a 
sharp  one ! "  Nevertheless,  he  took  off  his  hat 
with  a  very  low  sweep,  being  now  beside  his  com 
panion.  "  Isidro  Rodrigo  Escobar,  your  servant, 


senor." 


The  boy  eyed  him  a  moment  through  narrowing 
lids,  and  then,  as  if  appeased,  replied  in  kind,  — 
"  Peter  Lebecque  is  a  trapper ;  he  lives  by  the 
37 


ISIDRO 

Grapevine  where  the  water  of  that  creek  comes 
out  of  the  Gap." 

"  And  where  may  that  be  ?  " 

"  It  is  near  by,  senor." 

"  And  you,  what  are  you  called  ?  " 

"ElZarzo."1 

"  El  Zarzo  ?   Nothing  else  ?  " 

"  Nothing  else,  senor." 

"  But  that  is  no  name  for  a  Christian.  Had 
you  never  another  ?  " 

"  El  Zarzo  I  am  called,  senor,  or  Zarzito." 

"  Well,  well,  a  good  name  enough  ;  one  might 
guess  how  you  came  by  it." 

The  way  began  to  narrow  and  wind  down ; 
presently  they  heard  the  barking  of  dogs.  The 
gully  widened  abruptly  to  a  little  meadow  front 
ing  a  canon  wall,  looking  from  above  to  have  a 
close  green  thicket  in  its  midst.  Isidro,  when 
they  had  come  down  to  the  level,  perceived  it  to 
be  a  group  of  tree  trunks  overgrown  by  wild 
vines  that  had  come  up  by  the  help  of  the  trees 
and  afterward  strangled  them.  The  twisted  stems 
rose  up  like  pillars,  and  overhead  ran  stringers  of 

1  The  Briar. 
38 


THE  HUT   OF  THE   GRAPEVINE 

vine  thatched  with  leaves.  Alcoves  and  galleries 
of  shade  lay  between  the  tree  boles  under  thick 
rainproof  roofs.  The  outer  walls  were  cunningly 
pieced  out  by  willow  withes,  to  which  the  vines 
had  taken  kindly ;  a  rod  away  it  looked  to  be  all 
nature.  It  was  as  safe  and  dark  as  a  lair ;  the 
floor  of  stamped  earth  had  a  musty  dampness ; 
it  smelt  like  a  fox's  earth.  Bearskins  drying  in 
the  sun  stank  very  vilely,  and  dogs  lolled  hunting 
fleas  on  the  floor. 

Peter  Lebecque,  who  was  shaping  a  trap,  stood 
up  as  they  came,  but  found  no  words ;  all  man 
ner  of  threats,  questionings,  resentments,  played 
across  his  eyes.  El  Zarzo  slid  away  from  Isidro 
and  stood  in  low-toned  foreign  talk  a  long  time 
with  the  trapper,  with  many  a  quick-flung  look 
and  dropped  inflection.  They  need  not,  however, 
have  concerned  themselves  so  much ;  an  Escobar 
had  the  manners  not  to  hear  what  was  not  intended 
for  his  ears.  Isidro  stood  by  his  horse  and  smoked 
cigarettes  until  the  sun  was  quite  down. 

By  that  the  old  rascal,  for  so  he  looked,  came 
forward  to  take  his  horse.  "  Will  you  eat,  senor  ?*" 
he  said. 


ISIDRO 

"With  the  best  will  in  the  world/'  said  Isi- 
dro. 

The  old  trapper  took  a  pot  of  very  savory  stew 
from  the  fire,  added  bread  and  wine  and  a  dish 
}  of  beans.  They  three  sat  upon  stools  about  a  table 
contrived  of  hewn  slabs,  and  dipped  in  the  dish, 
every  man  with  his  own  knife  and  his  fingers. 
The  day  went  out  in  a  flare  of  crimson  clouds 
trumpeted  by  a  sea  wind ;  there  was  promise  of 
rain. 

It  appeared  that  Peter  Lebecque  knew  some 
thing  of  fine  manners,  though  Isidro  confessed 
to  himself  that  he  could  not  get  to  like  the  look 
of  him.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  polite  indirec 
tion  before  they  came  to  the  pith  of  their  busi 
ness. 

The  sheep,  it  was  agreed,  were  Mariano's; 
further  agreed  that  Isidro  and  the  lad  should 
deliver  them  to-morrow  to  the  shepherds  of  Ma 
riano,  who  might  be  met  with  about  the  place 
called  Pasteria.  This,  you  can  imagine,  was  no 
comfortable  news  for  Isidro,  since  it  took  him 
still  further  out  of  his  course ;  but,  in  fact,  there 
was  no  help  for  it. 

40 


THE  HUT  OF  THE   GKAPEVINE 

"  It  would  go  hard,"  said  the  trapper,  "  if  the 
flock  were  found  with  us.  An  Escobar  is  above 
suspicion,  but  we,  senor,  are  poor  folk."  He  leered 
wickedly  with  beady  eyes.  Isidro  had  washed  his 
hands  before  meat,  and  the  old  villain  had  noted 
blood  upon  his  wrists. 

"  As  you  will,"  said  Isidro,  wishing  to  be  rid 
of  the  matter,  "  and  then  you  will  tell  me  how 
I  shall  come  by  the  trail  to  the  Presidio  of  Mon 
terey  again." 

"  Ah,  Monterey ;  it  is  a  very  fine  town,  I  have 
heard." 

"  I  have  never  been  there." 

"  Nor  I,  but  I  have  heard,  a  gay  town,  and 
many  gay  ladies,  eh,  senor?" 

"  Oh,  as  to  that  I  cannot  say ;  I  go  to  Padre 
Saavedra  at  Carmelo."  Isidro  let  a  prodigious 
yawn ;  he  was  tired  of  the  day's  work,  and  tired 
of  the  company.  When  he  had  got  to  bed  at  last 
on  a  heap  of  skins  he  had  his  saddle  for  pillow, 
and  his  pistols  ready  to  hand.  "  I  am  not  a  priest 
yet,"  he  said,  "  and  the  old  fellow  looks  to  be  the 
devil  or  of  his  brood." 

By  this  the  rain  had  begun,  and  drummed 
41 


ISIDRO 

softly  on  the  thatch  of  vines.  The  old  man  and 
the  lad  had  their  heads  together,  talking  in  a 
foreign  tongue,  droning  and  incessant  as  the 
drip  of  the  rain ;  the  sound  of  it  ran  on  into  the 
night,  and  mixed  strangely  with  Isidro's  dreams. 


IV 

THE  FATHER  PRESIDENT 

IN  a  cove  of  quietness  back  from  the 
bay,  between  the  mountains  and  the 
Point  of  Pines,  stands  Carmel,  oth 
erwise  the  Mission  of  San  Carlos 
Borromeo,  second  of  the  strongholds  of  Holy 
Church  established  by  that  great  saint  and  greater 
man,  Fray  Junipero  Serra,  for  the  salvation  of 
souls  and  the  increasing  glory  of  God.  Where 
the  river  winds  through  the  mission  purlieus 
shallowly  to  the  sea,  rise  the  towers  and  chimes 
of  San  Carlos,  overlooking  the  alcoves  of  the 
Mission  and  the  wattled  huts  of  the  neophytes. 
It  looks  beyond  to  the  strips  of  tillage,  the  wink 
ing  weirs  that  head  up  the  river  for  the  irrigating 
ditches,  to  the  sloping  fields  of  the  Mission, 
browsed  over  by  clean-limbed  cattle.  Over  this 
clearing  and  over  some  miles  of  oak  forest  and 
birch-fringed  waters,  over  rolling  pine  lands  and 
blossomy  meadows,  the  Padres  of  San  Carlos  had 

43 


ISIDRO 

right  of  usufruct  and  disposition,  over  field  and 
flock  and  folk,  rights  temporal  and  spiritual  under 
the  hand  of  the  Father  President  of  Missions. 

It  was,  at  the  time  Isidro  Escobar  set  out  to  be 
a  priest  for  his  own  good  and  the  better  ease  of 
his  father's  conscience,  a  very  goodly  demesne,  a 
flowery  land  full  of  golden-throated  larks  lilting 
in  the  barley,  of  doves  moaning  in  the  blossom 
ing  pears,  of  jays  shouting  in  the  sombre  oaks. 
The  cattle  lowed  from  the  hills,  the  Indian  women 
crooned  at  their  weaving  in  the  sun. 

Upon  a  day  when  Peter  Lebecque  sat  knitting 
his  fierce  brows  in  his  hut  over  an  Escobar  who, 
with  blood  upon  his  wrists,  drove  Mariano's  shep- 
herdless  sheep  to  no  purpose,  it  happened  that 
Padre  Vicente  Saavedra,  Father  President  of 
Missions  of  Alta  California,  Brother  of  St. 
Francis,  together  with  Fray  Demetrio  Fages,  his 
almoner  and  secretary,  set  out  to  walk  from  San 
Carlos  to  the  Presidio  on  business  of  the  Co- 
mandante.  Of  this  business  and  whom  it  might 
concern  he  knew  nothing,  but  surmised  much. 
At  sundown  on  the  previous  day  an  orderly  rode 
out  to  San  Carlos  desiring  the  Father  President's 

44 


THE  FATHER   PRESIDENT 

presence  with  all  possible  convenience ;  nothing 
more  from  that  source,  but  from  Demetrio  Fages, 
a  comfortable  gossip,  he  had  gathered  that  a  ship 
of  a  build  such  as  seldom  put  into  that  port  had 
anchored  off  Monterey.  Padre  Saavedra  had  spent 
much  of  the  time  thereafter  walking  up  and  down 
in  the  corridor. 

These  were  tight  times  for  the  Father  Presidents 
He  knew  from  his  college  of  San  Fernando  that 
this  new  strumpet  Republic  contrived  evil  against 
the  Brothers  of  St.  Francis;  nothing  less  than 
the  removal  of  the  mission  demesne  from  under 
the  cure  of  his  order.  He  knew  also  that  the 
brotherhood  was  primed  against  that  attempt, 
and  his  faith  was  great,  but  of  late  his  mind  mis 
gave  him.  Communication  with  his  college  was 
slow.  Whispers  reached  him  from  the  outside, 
rumors,  veiled  intimations. 

From  Soledad,  from  Santa  Inez,  from  La  Puri- 
sima,  there  were  reports  of  restlessness  and  lack 
of  reverence  among  the  neophytes.  The  fact  was, 
the  reverend  Father  President  hardly  glimpsed 
the  breadth  of  the  disaster.  Liberty  was  awake 
and  crying  in  the  land.  The  secularization  of 

45 


ISIDRO 

the  Missions  was  an  accomplished  fact  while  the 
Padre  still  hoped  to  avert  it. 

Father  Saavedra  was  less  shrewd  than  saintly. 
In  the  management  of  the  Missions  difficulties 
arose  ;  if  there  was  a  way  out  he  took  it ;  if 
not,  it  was  indubitably  so  ordered  of  God,  hence 
bearable.  He  looked  for  the  ultimate  triumph  of 
St.  Francis,  but  what  he  could  contrive  by  way 
of  betterment  he  did.  His  night's  muse  had 
been  rather  of  his  own  affairs  than  this  business 
of  the  Comandante's,  which  he  supposed  might 
be  pertinent  to  the  matter. 

Notwithstanding  his  afternoon  of  years  and 
the  heaviness  of  his  concerns,  the  Padre  walked 
springily  toward  the  Presidio  of  Monterey.  A 
wet  fog  that  hung  in  shreds  and  patches  about 
the  pines  had  left  the  fields  dewy  and  glorious. 
Blossoms  lapped  the  trail,  birds  sang  in  the 
woods,  Padre  Vicente  was  in  tune.  He  must 
needs  talk,  and  since  this  was  clearly  no  time  to 
let  vapors,  he  talked  with  Fages  upon  another 
matter  which  lay  close  to  his  heart,  and  con 
cerned  the  good  of  the  order.  Said  he  :  — 

"  You  should  know  something  of  the  family 
46 


THE  FATHER   PRESIDENT 

o£  Escobar,  brother,  a  very  ancient  house  and  a 
noble  one,  well  set  up  by  marriages  on  either 
side.  Don  Antonio,  who  has  the  estates  of  Las 
Plumas  and  La  Liebre,  you  have  met.  Know, 
then,  that  his  younger  son,  called  Isidro,  is  dedi 
cated,  vowed,  given  over  to  Mother  Church  and 
our  Holy  Order  of  St.  Francis.  Him  I  look  to 
have  with  me  in  three  days  at  the  farthest.  To 
that  end  I  have  had  the  room  made  ready  next 
to  mine  at  Carmelo." 

This  was  straight  news.  If  the  secretary's 
eyes  had  not  been  cast  down  as  their  custom  was 
he  would  have  seen  the  little  flicker  of  pride 
with  which  it  was  delivered ;  but  then  the 
drooped  lids  hid  also  a  little  prick  of  alert  dis 
may  edness  behind  them.  The  good  Padre  was 
big  with  his  plan,  which  was  now  ripe  for  deliv 
ery.  He  went  on  :  — 

"  You  will  know,  of  course,  that  this  scion  of 
a  goodly  house  cannot  be  made  a  priest  here  in 
California,  as  one  might  say  the  word, — that  he 
must  needs  go  to  our  college  of  San  Fernando, 
perhaps  also  to  Rome,  but  in  good  time,  brother, 
in  good  time. 

47 


ISIDRO 

"  You  have  heard  me  speak,  Fray  Demetrio, 
of  the  danger  that  threatens  our  great  founda 
tion,  the  work  of  our  brother  in  Christ  and  St. 
Francis,  Padre  Jumpero  Serra,  whom  God  as- 
soil,  and  how  that  by  prayer  and  the  works  of 
the  Superior  of  our  order  and  the  intervention  of 
Holy  Church  it  may  yet  be  turned  aside."  This 
was  as  far  as  the  Father  President  would  admit 
the  imminence  of  that  dissolution  of  the  Missions 
which  was  so  soon  to  be  accomplished,  lest  by 
admitting  he  should  make  it  sure.  Anything 
more  implied  a  doubt  of  the  sovereign  powers 
of  St.  Francis ;  St.  Francis,  it  appeared,  had  other 
affairs. 

"Yet,"  said  Padre  Vicente,  "in  times  like 
these  even  the  least  of  God's  servants,  of  whom 
we  are,  may  do  somewhat.  The  coming  of  this 
young  man  into  our  order  at  this  time  should 
mean  much  for  the  Missions,  much,  Demetrio, 
and  was  no  doubt  so  ordered  aforetime,  as  you 
shall  hear."  Upon  this  the  good  Padre  out  with 
the  story  of  Mercedes  Venegas  and  the  elder 
Escobar,  and  a  very  pretty  story  he  made  of  it 
down  to  the  ruin  of  Don  Antonio's  fortune  and 

48 


THE   FATHER  PRESIDENT 

the  grant  to  him  of  the  twin  estates  of  Las  Plu- 
mas  and  La  Liebre.  Yet  there  remained  in  Mexico 
members  of  both  mother's  and  father's  houses, 
men  of  affairs  and  good  fortune,  well  friended 
of  the  state,  who  might  serve  St.  Francis  a  turn. 
"  So,"  concluded  the  Padre,  "  we  have  here  in 
this  young  man,  whom  I  have  seen  and  found 
well  inclined  toward  the  work,  that  which  may 
win  for  us  many  worldly  means,  by  which  it  is 
ordained  God's  work  should  proceed."  Thus  the 
Father  President  unbosomed  himself  of  his  con 
ceit,  which  was,  plainly  put,  to  keep  Isidro  by  him 
until  the  spirit  and  power  of  the  Missions  had 
got  into  his  blood,  and  then  send  him  to  Mexico 
to  be  made  a  priest,  and  use  his  family  for 
priestly  ends.  An  excellent  plan  enough,  but 
too  late  in  fruition.  Perhaps  Fages  knew  this ; 
the  man  was  no  fool,  though  reputed  slow ;  no 
less  a  saint  than  many  of  his  stripe,  and  greedy 
of  advancement.  Perhaps  Father  Vicente  made 
the  mistake  of  taking  his  subordinate's  limita 
tions  for  granted.  Fray  Demetrio  was  a  man  of 
no  blood  and  little  schooling,  but  if  he  had  gone 
far  for  a  man  of  his  parts  he  might  go  farther. 

49 


ISIDRO 

Father  Vicente  was  all  for  Holy  Church  and  St. 
Francis  ;  Fages  was  all  for  Fages.  Holy  Church 
was  a  good  thing  for  you  if  you  could  make  it 
so ;  one  might  climb  by  the  skirts  of  St.  Francis 
to  some  very  desirable  seat.  So  when  the  Father 
President  unburdened  himself  on  the  hill  trail 
between  Carmelo  and  the  Presidio  of  Monterey 
he  gave  that  worthy  food  for  thought.  He  had 
hardly  done  with  it  at  the  time  they  had  come 
to  the  top  of  the  hill  that  looks  on  the  town. 
Out  beyond,  caught,  as  it  were,  in  the  bight  of 
the  moon-shaped  bay,  the  stranger  ship  dipped  to 
her  white  reflection  on  the  tide. 

"  How  make  you  her  country  ? "  asked  the 
Padre. 

"  Venetian  by  the  flag,"  said  Fray  Demetrio. 

"  Venetian.  Ah,  ah  !  "  The  Father  President 
felt  a  loosening  about  his  heart.  What  menace 
to  St.  Francis  could  come  from  that  quarter  ?  An 
hour  later  he  was  with  the  Comandante  at  the 
Presidio. 

The  Comandante  of  Monterey  was  a  person 
able  man,  keen,  well  set  up,  not  young,  iron 
gray  as  to  hair,  as  to  temper  cold  steel  that  re- 

50 


THE  FATHER  PRESIDENT 

membered  the  pit  where  it  was  forged.  A  just 
man,  very  jealous  of  military  power.  The  Father 
President  and  Comandante  were,  as  respected 
their  several  jurisdictions,  upon  the  edge  of  dis 
trust  ;  for  the  rest,  they  were  very  good  friends. 
The  Comandante's  rooms  overlooked  the  blue 
floor  of  the  bay  and  the  Venetian  ship  which  lay 
in  the  anchorage.  The  vessel  had  seen  stiff 
weather  and  the  mercy  of  God.  Off  Cape  San  Lu 
cas,  beating  before  a  southerly  wind,  it  became 
certain  the  rotten  mainsail  would  never  hold ; 
the  sound  of  splitting  canvas  was  like  the  crack 
of  doom  to  the  crew,  who  took  themselves  at 
once  to  religion.  They  found  an  advocate  with 
God  in  the  person  of  the  Virgin,  and  by  her  in 
tervention,  being  strengthened  miraculously,  the 
sail  held,  and  had  been  vowed  to  her  at  the  first 
port  of  entry.  The  sailors  even  now  gathered  on 
the  beach  to  walk  barefoot,  each  holding  a  cor 
ner  of  the  canvas  to  bring  it  to  the  church  of 
San  Carlos  at  Monterey.  They  raised  a  hymn 
as  they  walked,  the  burden  of  which  came  up 
through  the  Comandante's  window,  and  served 
for1  all  introduction  to  the  conversation. 

51 


ISIDRO 

"  There  came  in  that  vessel,  the  King's  De 
light,"  said  the  Comandante,  "  one  Valentin 
Delgado,  with  letters  from  the  capital  upon  a 
matter  which  concerns  the  civil  authorities,  which 
concerns  you,  Padre,  a  little,  me  most  of  all." 
Here  was  a  good  beginning,  but  the  Padre 
waited  to  hear  more.  It  grew  upon  him  as  he 
waited  that  Jesus  Castro  must  be  older  than 
he  thought,  not  so  much  by  years  as  by  grief. 
When  the  Comandante  was  ready  for  going  on 
it  was  curtly  enough. 

"  You  knew  my  wife  ? "  The  Padre  bowed. 
"  She  was  a  Ramirez.  This  Delgado  comes  with 
word  of  a  considerable  estate  which  has  fallen 
to  her  or  her  heirs ;  failing  the  direct  line  it 
reverts  to  the  Church,  —  to  the  Hospital  of 
the  Clean  Conception  at  Mexico,  to  be  exact." 
This  was  large  news,  but  could  hardly  be  ex 
pected  to  interest  a  brother  of  St.  Francis ; 
the  Padre  judged  there  was  more.  Presently  it 
came. 

"  You  wonder  what  further  there  could  be  in 
the  matter,  since  you,  Padre,  in  common  with  the 
rest  of  the  world,  believe  me  childless ;  so,  for  a 

52 


THE  FATHER   PRESIDENT 

long  time,  I  supposed  myself,  but  the  truth  is 
Ysabel  had  a  child."  Something  of  what  this 
cost  Castro  the  Padre  guessed,  but  the  Coman- 
dante's  temper  brooked  no  pity. 

"  It  is  true,"  he  went  on,  beginning  to  walk  up 
and  down  the  room,  "  there  was  a  daughter,  and 
no  one  knows  what  has  become  of  her.  .  .  .  Ysa 
bel  was  at  Santa  Barbara ;  I  was  putting  down 
the  revolt  in  the  south.  It  was  the  year  of  the 
pestilence.  On  my  return  I  found  my  wife  dead, 
and  the  woman  Elisa,  her  nurse,  gone  back  to 
her  people.  Of  the  child  I  could  hear  no  word. 
As  you  have  perhaps  heard  —  as  you  know  "  — 
The  pride  of  a  Castro  could  go  no  farther. 

"  As  I  know,  my  son,"  assented  Saavedra  fa 
therly.  Report  had  it  that  the  Sefiora  Castro  had 
died  of  hate  for  the  proudest  man  in  New  Spain, 
whose  hair  was  white  with  grief  of  her  before  his 
time. 

"  Well,"  said  the  Comandante,  "  it  was  not 
for  a  year  that  I  heard  anything  of  that  matter. 
Padre  Bonaventura,  who  confessed  her  when  she 
died,  was  transferred  from  Santa  Barbara,  but 
when  he  learned  of  my  return  he  made  occasion 

53 


ISIDRO 

to  see  me  and  told  me  this  much.  Ysabel  was  not 
yet  recovered  from  her  confinement  when  she  was 
taken  with  the  fever,  and  though  the  Padre  came 
as  quickly  as  he  might  in  that  fearful  time,  she 
was  soon  spent.  What  she  confessed  to  him  was 
that  she  had  had  a  child  and  put  it  away  from 
her,  —  I  cannot  believe  her  mind  right  at  that 
time,  —  but  repented.  She  wished  me  to  have  it, 
for  it  was  mine  of  a  surety.  '  Tell  him  to  take 
the  child/  she  said,  and  with  that  she  died." 
Damp  like  death  stood  on  the  Comandante's 
brows.  Father  Saavedra  kept  his  fine  hands 
twisted  in  a  knot,  and  his  eyes  on  the  King's 
Delight.  Men  will  not  look  on  one  another's 
mortal  agony. 

Said  the  Padre  at  last,  "  And  you  found  no 
trace  ?  " 

"  None.  The  woman  Elisa  might  have  told 
somewhat,  but  she  had  disappeared.  Afterward 
I  came  upon  sure  proof  that  she  had  died  of  the 
fever." 

"And  now?" 

"Now  I  wish  to  know  more.  Elisa  was  a 
Christian,  and  very  intelligent.  If  the  child  died 

54 


THE  FATHER   PRESIDENT 

she  would  hardly  have  had  it  buried  without  a 
priest ;  if  it  lived  she  would  have  had  it  baptized. 
Some  of  your  Padres  may  know ;  I  am  told  they 
keep  strict  register.  Or,  at  least,  whoever  had  her 
in  charge  would  have  confessed,  perhaps." 

"  The  seal  of  the  confessional  —  "  began  the 
Father  President. 

"  The  seal  of  the  confessional,  Padre,"  inter 
rupted  the  other,  "  has  been  used  before  now  to 
restore  that  which  was  lost."  He  shrugged  off 
the  implied  rebuke  of  the  Padre's  uplifted  hand 
and  hurried  on  :  "I  have  heard  lately  that  your 
college  of  San  Fernando  has  fallen  somewhat  into 
decay.  The  child  is  the  heiress  of  the  Ramirez; 
bring  me  news  of  her,  and  I  promise  you  St. 
Francis  shall  not  suffer  for  it."  It  was  a  relief  to 
Castro  to  speak  peremptorily  of  what  he  would 
do  if  the  child  were  found :  it  seemed  almost  like 
getting  something  done  ;  but  to  do  the  Padre  jus 
tice,  at  this  point  he  had  hardly  a  thought  of  the 
bribe  to  St.  Francis,  though  that  came  afterward, 
as  befitted  a  Superior  of  the  order.  Just  now  he 
was  touched  as  a  man  by  the  other  man's  con 
suming  grief. 

55 


ISIDRO 

"  By  what  marks  would  you  know  her  when 
found?" 

"  None,  none !  "  cried  Castro.  "  I  know  no 
thing  except  the  time  of  her  birth.  She  would  be 
turned  sixteen  by  now.  You  see  I  did  not  know 
—  I  was  not  sure  —  my  wife  had  not  said  —  I 
had  been  four  months  from  home,  and  it  is  prob 
able  Ysabel  was  brought  untimely  to  bed.  She 
had  not  been  well  in  Santa  Barbara.  Then  when 
I  heard  that  my  wife  was  dead  I  wished  not  to 
live  myself ;  I  asked  to  be  kept  in  active  service. 
But  in  the  end  I  went  back  to  Santa  Barbara, 
and  there  I  learned  about  the  child." 

Slowly  the  two  men  beat  over  the  stubble  of 
the  Comandante's  old  grief,  but  found  small 
comfort  in  it.  The  woman  Elisa  had  not  been 
one  of  the  Mission  neophytes,  and  in  that  busy 
time  she  had  died  without  priestly  ministrations. 
There  had  been  another  woman  with  her  keeping 
the  Senora  Castro's  house.  It  seemed  she  might 
be  able  to  tell  something  if  she  could  be  found. 
It  appeared  to  the  Padre  that  she  must  be  living, 
for  if  she  had  died  in  any  of  the  Missions  she 
would  have  confessed,  and  word  of  it  come  to  the 

56 


THE  FATHER   PRESIDENT 

Comandante.  There  were  not  then  so  many 
dwellers  in  Alta  California  that  the  name  of  Jesus 
Castro  could  come  up  in  any  such  connection  and 
the  Padres  not  know  who  it  should  be.  The 
Father  President  promised  to  charge  his  mind 
with  it  as  he  went  on  his  yearly  round  of  Mis 
sions,  which  would  begin  now  in  a  week  or  two 
at  most. 

It  was  a  matter  which  could  be  turned  to  ac 
count  in  many  ways.  To  serve  Castro  in  this 
affair  would  be  to  turn  his  influence  on  the 
side  of  the  Missions  in  the  crisis  which  ap 
proached,  and  the  reward  might  be  considerable. 
Besides,  there  was  the  heiress  herself,  who,  if 
found,  might  be,  as  a  child  of  the  Missions, 
brought  to  serve  their  end.  These  were  the 
thoughts  of  the  functionary,  the  head  of  an 
order ;  there  was  another  which  was  pure  priest 
hood.  Father  Vicente  was  jealous  for  souls,  and 
Castro  an  indifferent  communicant.  If  now  he 
could  be  helped  in  this  matter  his  thoughts 
might  be  turned  properly  toward  God  and  the 
Church,  his  mother,  who  served  him.  This 
was  sweet  thought,  and  the  Padre  fed  upon 

57 


ISIDRO 

it  walking  back  to  Monterey.  But  what  he 
thought  he  did  not  tell  to  Fages,  much  to  that 
worthy's  discomfiture.  The  good  brother  had  an 
itch  for  news. 


YSABEL 

I  HIS  is  a  true  account  of  Ysabel  Cas 
tro,  and  how  a  child  of  hers  came 
to  be  lost.    The  rest  of  the  argu 
ment  has  to  do  with  finding  her. 
Most  of  it  was  known  to  her  husband ; 
as  much  as  was  known  to  all  the  world 
ci     was  known  to  Vicente  Saavedra ;  the  rest 
you  shall  hear  and  judge. 

If  Ysabel  Castro  had  been  a  beautiful 
|jj     woman,  fit  to  set  a  man  beside  himself, 

cl     Ysabel   Ramirez  had  been  a  more  beau- 
d 

tiful  girl.  There  are  still  extant  in  San 
Bias  among  the  gallants  there  some  songs  which 
were  made  of  her  worshipfully.  They  knew 
how  to  appraise  a  woman,  those  sprigs  of  New 
Spain,  —  her  hands,  her  ankles,  her  eyebrows,  the 
black  shroud  of  her  hair.  That  she  had  few 
suitors  for  her  hand  among  many  lovers  was  not 
so  much  because  the  Senor  Ramirez  was  villain 
ously  poor  as  that  he  was  villainously  proud. 

59 


ISIDRO 

Suitors  or  no  suitors,  Ysabel  had  given  her 
heart  to  another  Ramirez,  a  cousin  in  some  sort, 
who  had  the  family  beauty,  the  family  pride,  and, 
it  may  be  added,  the  family  poverty.  There  is 
no  doubt  he  loved  Ysabel ;  perhaps  the  young 
people  might  have  come  together  and  been  happy 
in  the  face  of  all  these, —  such  things  have  hap 
pened  in  New  Spain, —  but  before  this  could  be 
accomplished  Jesus  Castro  had  seen  her.  Castro 
was  already  a  made  man,  and  his  youth  dry  in 
him  when  the  beauty  of  Ysabel  Ramirez  shook 
the  crypts  of  his  soul.  One  is  obliged  to  admit, 
had  there  been  no  impediment,  it  would  have 
been  a  suitable  marriage.  The  name  of  Castro 
was  as  good  as  Ramirez,  the  fortunes  better. 

The  pride  of  young  ^  men  is  not  the  pride  of 
middle  age.  Ramon  Ramirez  was  too  proud  to 
have  his  cousin  if  she  did  not  love  him ;  Castro 
was  too  proud,  loving  her,  not  to  have  her  on 
any  terms.  In  the  end  he  possessed  her,  at  what 
cost  to  himself  you  shall  hear.  Always  one  must 
admit  a  certain  amount  of  misunderstanding  to 
mitigate  the  pitiableness  of  human  affairs. 

When  Castro  began  to  make  favors  of  small 
60 


YSABEL 

loans  to  the  elder  Ramirez  it  was  merely  to  ease 
the  need  he  had  of  serving  Ysabel.  When  Rami 
rez  began  to  accept  favors  he  had  no  hint  of 
Castro's  suit.  If  he  had  known  how  much  the 
weight  of  debt  pressed  upon  the  elder  man,  Castro 
might  not  have  used  such  urgency.  That  Ysabel 
did  not  love  him  he  knew,  but  had  no  hint  of  the 
affair  with  the  cousin  ;  there  had  been  no  formal 
betrothal,  and,  besides,  the  body  and  soul  of  him 
cried  out  for  her.  The  desire  of  mastery  mastered 
him ;  Ysabel  he  would  have  if  he  died  for  it.  But 
Ysabel  died. 

She  had  one  stormy  hour  with  her  father,  a 
stolen  one  with  her  lover,  and  afterward  submitted 
to  what  was,  for  her,  the  will  of  God.  They  were 
all  for  pride,  those  dons  of  New  Spain,  for  name 
and  honor  and  bravery  ;  but  in  fact  they  were  a 
simple  folk. 

Jesus  Castro  was  at  that  time  Comandante  at 
San  Bias,  and  Ramon  Ramirez  one  of  his  lieu 
tenants.  At  the  marriage  of  his  superior  Ramon 
held  a  stirrup  for  the  bride  at  the  church  door. 
Castro  saw  his  hand  tremble  when  her  foot  was 
on  it,  and  got  an  inkling ;  looked  at  his  wife's 

61 


ISIDRO 

face,  and  had  a  revelation.  There  went  to  that 
wedding  a  broken  heart,  a  slighted  troth,  a  cold 
exchange  of  coin,  for  all  of  which  Castro  paid. 

Ysabel  saw  to  that.  She  went  to  his  hearth  in 
scorn,  to  his  bed  with  cold  shudderings  of  distaste. 
He  had  his  will  of  her  as  far  as  the  outward  form, 
never  so  far  as  the  borderland  of  soul  and  under 
standing.  His  pretty  plan  for  marrying  a  wife  and 
winning  her  afterward  went  all  awry.  It  was  not 
that  he  was  too  proud  to  woo,  but  he  lacked 
knowing  how.  She  met  his  courtesies  with  con 
tempt,  and  his  passion  with  bitter  gibes.  In  all 
this  was  no  outward  quarrel.  Her  very  obedience 
was  a  mock.  Ramon  she  had  never  seen,  never 
tried  to  see,  since  her  marriage.  It  was  not  doubt 
of  his  wife's  honor  that  led  him  to  exchange  his 
post  to  Santa  Barbara,  where  all  was  strange,  but 
the  hope  that  in  sheer  loneliness  she  might  turn 
to  her  husband.  The  worst  of  his  unhappiness 
was  that  with  all  her  hating  he  could  not  unlove 
her. 

At  Santa  Barbara  Ysabel  loathed  him  more, 
and  clung  closer  to  the  woman  Elisa,  who  had 

nursed  her. 

62 


YSABEL 

In  truth,  I  think  the  poor  lady  not  all  to  blame 
in  this.  With  all  his  will  to  do  her  good,  her 
husband's  bitter  passion  would  not  let  him  spare 
her.  Besides,  her  condition  —  she  was  by  now 
enceinte  —  no  doubt  worked  a  disorder  in  her 
mind.  Of  this,  as  you  have  learned,  Castro  had 
no  hint. 

"  It  would  please  him  too  much,"  said  Ysabel 
to  her  woman. 

Indian  revolts  in  the  south  kept  her  husband 
away  from  home  much  of  that  year,  and  furthered 
her  plan  of  concealment.  When  the  Dona  Ysabel 
was  near  her  time,  there  broke  out  at  the  Mission 
a  great  pestilence  of  fever  that  carried  off  the 
natives  by  scores,  and  kept  every  man's  mind  upon 
his  own  affairs. 

Those  were  simple  times  when  nature  had  a 
large  measure  of  trust,  and  women  served  one 
another  at  need.  Dona  Ysabel  had  in  her  hour, 
which  came  untimely,  the  woman  Elisa  and  one 
other.  About  sundawn,  when  they  showed  her 
the  child,  she  saw  that  she  had  stamped  it  with 
her  hate,  —  the  very  front  and  feature  of  the 
Castros.  She  turned  upon  her  side  and  hid  her 

63 


ISIDRO 

face.  "Take  it  away/'  she  said  to  the  women, 
"  take  it  away." 

It  seemed  a  weakling,  not  likely  to  find  breath 
for  going  on,  and  the  women  had  hurried  it  to 
the  priest  for  baptism.  Father  Bonaventura  had 
too  much  to  do  at  that  time  for  record-keeping ; 
he  christened  the  child,  between  two  deaths, 
Jacinta  Concepcion,  and  knew  no  more  about  it. 

Ysabel  never  saw  her  child  but  once  afterward. 
The  women  put  it  to  her  breast,  but  there  was  no 
milk ;  the  rage  of  grief  had  dried  that  fountain. 
It  seemed  she  might  have  been  tenderly  moved 
toward  it,  for  she  looked  at  it  long,  and  took  a 
medal  from  her  neck  to  hang  about  the  child's, 
but  at  once  she  rose  up  in  her  bed,  bright  and 
hot  and  shaken  terribly,  crying  upon  the  women 
to  take  it  away.  She  seemed  not  to  have  any 
thought  but  "  Take  it  away !  take  it  away ! " 
and  "  Never  let  him  know,  Elisa,  never  let  him 
know,"  meaning  her  husband,  "  ah  God,  never 
let  him  know ! "  So  she  would  fall  asleep  moaning, 
and  waking  fall  to  crying  again  very  pitifully. 
It  seemed  as  if  the  child  were  a  great  shame  to 
her  which  she  would  hide,  as,  indeed,  such  a  birth 

64 


YSABEL 

might  be  to  a  woman  who  was  a  maid  at  heart. 
But  the  women  understood  that  she  was  in  a  fever, 
and  were  very  tender  of  her. 

On  the  ninth  day  the  woman  Elisa  saw  that 
she  opened  new  eyes  upon  her,  strange,  but  sane. 
"  Go  for  the  Padre,"  she  said  to  the  other  serving 
woman  ;  "  it  is  the  shadow  of  death."  The  shadow 
was  very  near. 

"  I  have  been  a  sinful  woman,"  Ysabel  said  to 
the  priest  between  two  breaths.  "  Tell  my  hus 
band  to  take  the  child  "  —  With  that  she  fell 
a-shuddering  so  that  the  Padre  made  haste  to  lay 
the  host  between  her  lips.  So  she  died,  but  when 
Padre  Bonaventura  had  time  to  inquire  into  the 
matter  the  woman  and  the  child  had  disappeared. 
Dona  Ysabel  should  have  shown  her  repentance 
to  her  servant  rather  than  the  priest.  The  woman 
loved  her,  and  was  as  reticent  as  death. 

Neither  the  Padre  nor  Castro  could  make  any 
thing  of  it.  That  they  had  died  of  the  fever 
seemed  likeliest.  Castro  fed  upon  the  hint  of 
forgiveness  in  that  last  word,  "  Tell  my  husband  to 
take  the  child."  Ah,  Christ,  what  would  he  not 
give  !  but  to  the  world  he  was  still  a  childless  man. 

65 


ISIDBO 

As  much  of  this  as  he  knew,  Padre  Saavedra 
brooded  over  after  his  meeting  with  the  Coman- 
dante.  He  glimpsed  a  little  what  had  been  in 
Ysabel's  mind  when  she  had  denied  her  child  — 
the  good  father  had  confessedwomenaswell  asmen 
—  and  a  little  of  the  notion  of  the  woman  Elisa; 
but  he  believed  the  daughter  of  Castro  still  alive, 
since  God,  who  ordered  all  things,  would  hardly 
let  it  rise  up  to  trouble  his  mind  if  there  were 
nothing  to  come  of  it.  The  woman  Elisa  was  a 
Christian,  —  therefore,  if  living,  to  be  reached 
through  Holy  Church.  Father  Saavedra  had  it 
in  mind  to  go  through  the  Missions  as  with  a  sieve 
till  she  was  found,  or  some  trace  of  her.  Castro 
believed  her  dead  of  the  plague,  but  the  child  was 
not  with  her ;  then  she  had  left  it  in  charge  of 
some  other  who  might  still  be  reached.  But  the 
best  reason  for  believing  was  the  urgent  need 
of  St.  Francis  to  support  his  failing  cause;  the 
fortune  of-  Ramirez  might  very  well  be  the  ram 
caught  in  the  thicket  for  sacrifice.  You  will  easily 
perceive  by  this  the  bent  of  the  Father  President's 
mind. 

At  the  Presidio  the  Padre  had  asked  Castro 
66 


YSABEL 

for  proofs,  —  marks  of  identification  by  which 
the  child  should  be  known  when  found;  the  Co- 
mandante,  you  remember,  had  said  there  were 
none.  There  was  the  medal,  —  Castro  had  seen 
it  on  his  wife's  bosom,  —  but  they  knew  nothing 
of  that ;  and  there  were  marks :  the  beauty  of 
the  Ramirez  stamped  by  the  Comandante,  —  two 
perfect  parted  bows  of  lips,  two  great  eyes  under 
a  fine  curved  line  of  brows  meeting  over  the  high 
straight  nose,  a  temper  quick  and  restrained,  a 
tongue  tipped  with  the  aloe  of  bitterness  that 
curdled  Dona  Ysabel's  heart,  great  power  of 
hating,  greater  for  loving.  By  these  marks 
you  should  know  the  child  of  Ysabel  and  Jesus 
Castro  when  she  was  found.  No  doubt  the  good 
Padre  was  right.  The  surface  of  waters  is  troubled 
above  bodies  about  to  rise ;  something  was  to 
come  up  out  of  the  depths  to  concern  the  Co 
mandante  and  the  Father  President.  Revolving 
the  affair,  Father  Vicente  paced  back  to  Carmelo 
neither  so  cheery  nor  so  communicable  as  he  had 
been  in  the  morning. 

Meantime  Castro,  who  knew  more  of  these 
things  than  the  Padre,  but  not  so  much  as  you 

67 


ISIDRO 

have  heard,  set  straightly  about  the  business  of 
doing  something.  He  sought  out  Don  Valentin, 
and  put  it  before  him  somewhat  in  this  fashion. 
There  was  an  heir,  a  daughter  who  would  be 
about  sixteen,  but  she  was  unfortunately  out  of 
touch,  mislaid,  in  fact  lost.  He  let  Delgado  think 
what  he  would  of  causes,  gave  him  only  facts, 
place,  time,  the  name  of  the  nurse.  It  occurred 
to  him  now  as  he  talked  that  he  had  not  paid 
sufficient  attention  to  the  other  woman ;  he  had 
been  all  for  Elisa.  It  grew  upon  him  that  here 
was  a  clue  that  might  be  followed  to  advantage. 
All  this  was  interesting,  though  it  was  hardly 
clear  what  it  purported  to  Delgado,  but  there 
was  more  to  follow. 

This  Delgado  was  as  courtly  and  serviceable 
a  young  man  as  ever  came  out  of  Mexico ;  a  nim 
ble  wit  and  likely  to  have  himself  most  in  hand 
when  there  was  most  need.  Ah1  the  young  cabal- 
leros  about  the  Presidio  were  vastly  taken  with 
him.  He  brought  them  a  new  style  of  waistcoat 
and  a  new  game  at  cards.  The  rope  of  silver 
around  his  peaked  sombrero  was  fastened  with  a 
great  turquoise.  The  leathers  of  his  spurs  had 

68 


YSABEL 

jewels  in  them.    Besides  he  could  talk,  as  the     / 
fashion  then  set,  of  liberty  and  the  Republic,  — 
had  all  its  newest  phases  very  pat.  ^ 

It  seemed  from  his  account  that  there  had  been 
a  half-brother  of  the  elder  Ramirez  who  had  gone 
far  in  the  favor  of  fortune,  but  not  far  enough 
in  the  favor  of  ladies  to  secure  him  a  lawful  heir. 
Dying,  his  estates  fell  to  the  heirs  of  Ysabel,  if 
any  such  were  found.  Delgado  freely  admitted 
that  he  had  accepted  that  quest  from  the  admin 
istrator  because  it  brought  him  to  the  new  land 
where  he  had  heard  estates  were  to  be  come 
by.  He  had  taken  ship  at  San  Bias  on  this 
same  King's  Delight  that  dwindled  to  a  speck 
against  the  west.  He  had  no  other  employment 
but  the  business  of  the  heir. 

Castro  considered  that  he  had  here  a  tool  to 
his  hand.  Delgado  could  see  for  himself  —  Cas 
tro  put  it  to  him,  walking  up  and  down  in  the 
low  room  opening  toward  the  sea  —  that  he  was 
the  man  for  this  affair.  Once  supplied  with  money, 
letters,  all  the  details  that  were  known  to  the 
father,  this  young  blade  with  the  quick  wit  should 
do  wonders.  To  tell  the  truth,  Castro  had  made 

69 


ISIDRO 

a  perfunctory  search.  The  rage  of  Ysabel  even 
in  her  grave  had  been  a  thing  not  lightly  to  be 
braved.  From  the  first  he  had  been  sure  it  would 
baffle  him. 

Padre  Bonaventura  was  no  longer  at  Santa 
Barbara,  but  at  San  Gabriel.  He  should  be  able 
to  set  forth  the  facts  freshly.  The  census  of  the 
inhabitants  was  so  strictly  kept  by  the  Missions 
that  a  careful  search  must  reveal  something,  and 
the  girl  once  found,  — ah,  well,  —  who  so  worthy 
of  the  doe  as  he  who  sped  the  arrow;  to  whom 
should  the  dove  belong  if  not  to  him  who  set  the 
snare?  In  short,  Castro  let  him  know  in  very 
courtly  and  roundabout  fashion,  and  not  all  at 
one  sitting  or  in  one  day,  that  if  he  would  but 
find  the  daughter  of  Ysabel  Ramirez  he  might 
have  whatever  he  asked,  even  to  the  hand  of  the 
heiress.  Delgado  felicitated  himself  that  things 
were  coming  his  way,  but  he  would  have  a  surer 
bond.  This  polite  indirection  had  a  little  fallen 
into  disuse  in  the  days  of  the  Republic.  He 
would  do  his  utmost,  he  said,  and  marry  her — "if 
so  be  she  was  marriageable ! "  The  eyes  of  the 
Comandante  narrowed  to  two  slits  spitting  fire. 

70 


YSABEL 

Marriageable !  to  a  Delgado,  the  daughter  of  a 
Ramirez !  Don  Valentin  kept  a  level  eye ;  he  had 
seen  great  men  rage  before  now;  nevertheless, 
he  had  good  manners  in  the  main. 

"The  Senor  Comandante  forgets  —  the  seno- 
rita  may  be  married  by  now."    This  was  a  check, 
and  Castro  let  his  rage  die  out  while  he  consid 
ered  it.    Ah,  ah,  no  matter;  only  find  her,  the 
reward  would  not  be  wanting.    So,  finally,  a  bar 
gain  was  struck,  but  at  this  first  interview  they 
had  hardly  made  a  beginning.    There  was  very\ 
little  business  in  those  days  in  Alta  Calif ornia  ) 
which  could  not  better  be  finished   to-morrow 
than  to-day. 

Delgado  had  gone  off  to  his  quarters  in  the 
town.  Lights  twinkled  in  the  houses  and  went 
out.  Somewhere  out  of  sight  a  woman  sang  to  a 
fretful  child,  the  sentries  called  across  the  dark. 
Over  in  Carmel  Padre  Vicente  knelt  by  the  bones 
of  Serra;  in  devotion  his  soul  took  flight.  De- 
metrio  Fages,  near  him,  moved  sidewise  on  his 
knees  to  rest  them  from  the  tiles ;  he  prayed  with 
his  lips,  his  hands,  and  the  surface  of  his  mind. 
The  depths  of  him  were  busy  with  other  things. 

71 


ISIDRO 

By  and  by  the  moon  swam  into  the  clear  void; 
it  looked  in  on  the  serene  face  of  the  Father 
President,  sleeping  with  his  hands  clasped  on  a 
crucifix  lest  death  surprise  him;  on  Delgado, 
gaming  with  the  young  bloods  of  Monterey ;  on 
Escobar,  sleeping  in  his  silver-fringed  mantle,  and 
on  El  Zarzo,  watching  him  in  the  wakeful  pauses 
with  black,  deep-lighted  eyes.  But  in  the  house 
of  the  Comandante  lay  shadow  of  darkness; 
where  no  moon  could  pierce,  a  man  rolled  face 
downward  on  his  bed,  who  moaned  and  bit  his 
hands,  and  cried  only  "  Ysabel !  Ysabel !  Ysa 
bel!" 


VI 

THE   BRIAR 

IHE  rain  was  over  and  gone  when  Isi- 
dro  woke   in  the   grapevine    hut    of 
Peter   Lebecque.     It  was   clear    day 
overhead,  and  the  sun  coming  up  re 
splendent.    Peter  Lebecque  was  busy  about 
the  cooking  pots  ;  said  he,  — 

"  Well,  senor,  are  you  for  the  road? " 
"  Most    assuredly,    senor ;    the    sooner    the 
better." 

"  It  is  so,"  said  Lebecque  ;  "  the  Padre  Presi- 
dente  is  not  a  man  to  be  kept  waiting."  They 
broke  their  fast  in  silence;  the  boy,  Isidro 
judged,  had  been  fed ;  the  sheep  jangled  their 
bells  for  the  start.  El  Zarzo  came  up  with  Esco 
bar's  horse  and  a  kicking  pinto  saddled  for  him 
self.  He  gave  no  greeting,  but  his  eyes  were 
distinctly  friendly.  He  was  dressed  more  in  the  \ 
fashion  of  the  time,  and  showed  more  slender- 
ness.  He  wore  no  hat,  but  the  kerchief  on  his 

73 


ISIDRO 

head  was  black  and  new.  Rid  of  the  fantastic 
garnish  of  leaves,  his  brows  showed  under  it  a 
fine  black  line  meeting  across  the  thin  high  nose. 
Straight  black  locks  clipped  his  face  around  and 
fell  under  the  chin  like  a  veil ;  so  much  of  his 
skin  as  showed  had  a  deep  touch  of  the  sun.  He 
was  to  ride  with  Isidro  and  the  sheep  to  find 
Mariano's  men,  who  would  be  by  this  time  in  the 
place  called  Pasteria. 

There  was  no  ceremony  of  parting  other  than 
this  :  the  trapper  called  the  lad  aside  and  thrust 
a  packet  in  his  bosom ;  there  passed  some  words 
between  them  in  a  strange  tongue,  —  French, 
guessed  Isidro, — but  no  farewell. 

Escobar,  who,  now  that  he  was  fed  and  astride 
of  a  horse,  felt  the  world  to  go  very  well  with 
him,  sang  as  they  passed  out  of  the  canon  of  the 
vines. 

Rain  still  shook  from  the  laden  trees ;  it  lay 
heavily  on  the  slanting  grass,  heaviest  on  the 
folded  poppy  buds.  Little  runnels  lined  the 
gravelly  slopes;  the  streams  were  over-full. 
Woolly  patches  of  cloud  clung  about  the  shoul 
dering  hills  and  flocked  in  the  canons.  Where 

74 


THE  BRIAR 

\ 
their  horses  trod  among  the  wild  oats  there  was 

a  sound  of  showers.  It  was  a  morning  of  deep, 
unmastered  joy.  They  went  slowly  by  dim,  sweet 
trails,  for  the  lambs  made  small  progress  in  the 
wetness. 

The  sun  warmed  and  dried  them  soon  enough  ; 
warmed  the  blood  of  the  lad,  who  played  a  thou 
sand  impish  tricks,  —  scurried  on  steep  hillsides, 
went  needlessly  about  in  the  scrub  to  increase  the 
way,  chased  the  hill  creatures,  and  gave  them 
call  for  call.  He  rode  one  of  the  wild  horses 
native  to  those  hills,  on  a  saddle  of  Indian  make, 
lacking  the  high  pommel  of  the  Spaniard,  and 
rode  like  an  Indian,  indifferently  on  one  side  or 
the  other,  on  neck  or  rump.  With  all  he  watched 
Escobar  with  alert  intentness. 

At  mid-morning  they  struck  into  a  belt  of 
chaparral  in  the  wash  of  a  sometime  flood,  very 
gaudy  at  this  season  with  wild  gourd  and  cactus 
flower.  Rabbits  herded  here,  scarcely  fearful  of , 
men  or  dogs.  In  the  clear  vault  above  them 
eagles  swooped  and  hung.  Suddenly  one  dropped 
with  a  great  spread  of  pinions  on  the  cactus  scrub. 
It  struck  and  halted,  sweeping  forward  slowly  for 

75 


ISIDRO 

the  rise,  and  from  its  pierced  quarry  came  a  cry 
anguished  and  human.  Isidro,  startled  out  of  a 
muse,  clapped  spurs  to  his  horse.  As  the  eagle 
rose  to  his  level,  he  struck  it  sharply  with  his 
silver-handled  quirt.  The  great  bird,  amazed, 
loosed  his  hold  upon  the  rabbit,  which  made  off 
in  the  chaparral,  squealing  pitifully.  The  eagle 
showed  fight  for  a  moment,  thought  better  of  it, 
sailed  off  to  new  depredations. 

El  Zarzo  rode  up  astounded.  "  What ! "  he 
said. 

"  My  faith,"  said  Isidro,  "  but  I  can  never  hear 
one  of  them  scream  for  pain  and  be  quiet.' '  He 
was  ashamed  of  his  weakness  and  ashamed  of  his 
shame. 

"Rabbits  were  made  to  be  eaten,"  said  the 
shepherd  lad,  "and  eagles  to  eat  them." 

Isidro  recovered  himself. 

"  It  is  not  fitting  that  a  priest  should  see  kill 
ing  done,"  he  said. 

The  boy  edged  up  his  pony  and  slacked  rein ; 
clearly  this  fine  gentleman  was  not  to  be  feared, 
and  might  repay  study. 

"  Are  you  a  priest,  senor  ?  " 
76 


THE   BRIAR 

"  I  am  about  to  be." 

"What  is  he,  a  priest?" 

"  A  priest,  Virgen  Santisima  !  A  priest  is  a 
very  holy  man,  in  the  service  of  God  and  our 
Saviour  and  St.  Francis,  or  other  of  God's  saints. 
Hast  never  seen  one  ?  " 

"  One.  He  was  fat,  and  had  small  hair,  and 
wore  a  dress  like  a  woman's.  You  look  not  like 
such  a  one.  When  my  mother  lay  a-dying  she 
was  all  for  a  priest.  '  A  priest,  a  priest ! '  she 
would  cry,  but  when  one  was  fetched  she  was 
already  gone." 

"  She  was,  no  doubt,  a  very  good  Christian." 

"  She  was  a  Cahuiallas,"  said  the  boy. 

«  A  Cahuiallas  !    Thou?" 

"  Of  that  tribe." 

Isidro  looked  at  the  fine,  small  face  under  the 
fall  of  hair.  "  Nevertheless,  you  are  no  Indian," 
was  his  thought. 

"  But  what  does  he  do,  a  priest  ?  " 

"  My  faith,  the  boy  is  a  stark  heathen  !  "  cried 
Isidro.  "  A  priest  is  for  marrying  and  christening 
and  burying.  He  doeth  on  earth  the  works  of 
our  Father  Christ." 

77 


ISIDRO 

"My  mother  had  a  Christ/'  said  El  Zarzo, 
"  silver,  on  a  black  cross.  In  the  sickness  it  is  a 
great  comfort." 

Isidro  had  a  fine  feeling  for  situations ;  he 
tuned  himself  to  the  boy's  key.  Their  talk  was 
all  of  the  wood  and  its  ways,  trapper's  and 
shepherd's  talk,  suited  to  their  present  shift.  For 
food  the  boy  had  brought  jerke  of  venison,  barley 
cakes,  and  dried  figs.  They  took  their  nooning 
under  an  oak  with  great  content. 

El  Zarzo  pushed  the  sheep  shrewdly ;  their 
way  lay  by  high  windy  slopes,  by  shallow  canons 
under  a  sky  of  leaves.  They  worked  up  water 
courses  reeking  sweet  with  buckeye  bloom ;  they 
forded  streams  swollen  with  the  rain.  So  evening 
brought  them  to  the  place  called  Pasteria,  —  a 
long  valley  running  north  and  south  between 
broken  ridges  full  of  lairs.  Spare  branched  pines 
spiked  the  upper  rim  of  it ;  oaks  stood  up  here 
and  there ;  along  the  shallow  groove  that  some 
times  held  a  stream,  a  fringe  of  birches.  The 
sheep  passed  down  the  shore  of  the  valley,  and 
the  purple  glow  of  evening  lapped  them  like  a 
tide  ;  burrowing  owls  began  to  call ;  night  hawks 

78 


THE  BRIAR 

set  their  dusky  barred  wings  above  the  scrub.  1 
Far  across  the  pastures  a  rosy  flame  blossomed 
out  against  the  dark,  and  settled  to  a  glow.   It 
was  the  camp-fire  of  Mariano's  men. 

"  They  come  this  way,"  said  the  boy.  "  Rest 
here,  and  by  the  third  hour  after  sunrise  they 
will  come  up  with  us."  They  lit  a  fire  of  sticks, 
and  had  a  meal.  Pasteria  flooded  with  soft 
dusk,  and  the  rim  of*  it  melted  into  the  sky. 
Noe  and  Reina  Maria  kept  their  accustomed 
round. 

"  Senor,"  said  the  boy  as  he  lay  in  his  bright 
serape  by  the  dying  fire,  "  do  you  like  it,  being  a 
priest  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  great  honor,  and  greatly  to  the  soul's 
salvation  to  serve  God  and  Holy  Church." 

"But  do  you  like  it?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Escobar,  forced  to  deal  simply  in 
the  face  of  such  simplicity.  As  well  put  on  airs 
with  Noe  or  Reina  Maria. 

"  Do  women  become  priests  ever  ?  " 

"  Sacramento  !  Women  !  It  is  a  man's  work, 
being  a  priest,  though  there  are  many  holy 
women  who  serve  God  and  the  saints  in  con- 

79 


ISIDRO 

vents.  Santa  Barbara  was  such  a  one,  and  Santa 
Clara." 

"What  do  they  do?" 

"  They  say  prayers  and  do  penance ;  also  they 
do  the  work  of  the  convent,  and  visit  the 
sick." 

"  Is  that  all  ?   Do  they  never  go  out  ?  " 

"  There  may  be  other  matters  requiring  their 
attention,  but  I  do  not  recall  them.  For  the  most 
part  they  pray." 

"  Do  they  never  marry  ?  " 

"  Santisima !  They  are  the  brides  of  the 
church." 

"  Nor  have  children  ?  " 

"Never!" 

El  Zarzo  brooded  over  these  things  for  a  space, 
and  Isidro  settled  himself  for  sleep. 

"It  is  stupid,  I  think,"  said  the  boy,  "to  get 
married." 

"  Ah,  no  doubt  you  will  come  to  think  dif 
ferently." 

"You  are  not  for  marrying?" 

"  I  am  to  be  a  priest."  Isidro  said  his  prayers 
and  crossed  himself;  El  Zarzo  did  the  same; 

80 


THE  BRIAR 

it  appeared  he  was  a  Christian,  though  some 
what  lacking  in  instruction.  The  deep  velvet 
void  closed  over  them,  blurred  with  stars ;  the 
coyotes  were  beginning  their  choruses. 

Shepherds  are  a  simple  folk,  slow  of  wit,  little 
wondering,  accustomed  to  mysteries.  They  have 
an  affinity  for  sheep.  Those  who  had  the  care 
of  Mariano's  flock  came  up  with  Isidro  and  the 
lad  about  mid-morning.  It  is  doubtful  if  Nicolas 
and  Ramon  understood  their  part  in  the  affair, 
but  they  made  no  objection.  Here  were  sheep  of 
Mariano's  lacking  a  shepherd,  and  shepherds  of 
Mariano's  hiring.  They  met  and  mingled  as 
of  duty  bound.  Further  than  that  the  matter 
furnished  them  material  for  days'  thought  and 
night  talks  by  many  a  coyote-scaring  fire.  The 
adventure  of  No6  and  Reina  Maria  passed  into 
the  Iliad  of  the  hills.  By  the  week's  end  Nicolas 
and  Ramon,  who  had  traversed  the  length  and 
breadth  of  the  affair,  concluded  that  they  should 
go  and  look  for  Mariano. 

Isidro  and  El  Zarzo,  once  they  had  done  with 
them,  struck  across  the  valley  for  the  outposts  of 
the  Santa  Lucia.  On  leaving  Las  Plumas  it  had 

81 


ISIDRO 

been  the  purpose  of  Escobar  to  drop  into  the 
public  road  at  the  Mission  San  Antonio  de  Padua 
de  Los  Robles.  From  there  he  could  reach  San 
Carlos  in  a  day's  riding.  This  business  of  Noe 
and  Reina  Maria  had  set  all  his  plans  awry. 
He  was  now  out  of  his  own  riding  and  all  at  sea. 
El  Zarzo,  who  knew  the  land  like  an  Indian, 
led  him  a  sharp  pace.  They  rode  hard,  made  a 
hunter's  camp  that  night,  and  slept  the  clock 
around  on  stacked  dried  grass. 

From  that  the  directions  for  the  way  were 
plain  enough  :  keep  to  the  trail  as  long  as  it 
ran  west,  where  it  broke  and  wavered  in  stony 
ground  cut  straight  over  the  hill  crest.  It  did 
not  matter  greatly  how ;  take  the  easiest  going 
and  keep  a  certain  bulk  of  blue  hill  always  to 
the  left.  So  you  came  to  a  valley  with  a  river  ; 
the  ford  was  by  the  road  house ;  the  rest  was 
open  highway.  Isidro  rose  early,  slipped  a  silver 
piece  under  the  shepherd  lad's  serape,  and  gave 
him  a  friendly  pat.  The  boy  breathed  lightly  in 
sleep. 

The  way  was  long,  and  Escobar  struck  out  with 
a  light  heart.  Lilac  and  laurel  bloom  brushed 

82 


THE   BRIAR 

his  saddle-bow  and  at  times  engulfed  him.  The 
Santa  Lucia  rose  up,  blue  and  sparsely  wooded 
slopes  ;  seaward  on  those  high  and  lonely  altars 
bloomed  the  tall  spike  of  yucca,  called  the  Can 
dles  of  our  Lord.  He  pricked  forward  singing. 
The  wood  was  very  still.  It  came  upon  him  once 
or  twice  that  something  moved  behind  him  in 
the  trail.  Twigs  snapped ;  a  stone  rolled  clatter 
ing  to  some  leafy  deep.  His  horse  grew  restless, 
cocked  an  ear  back  upon  the  path.  It  might  be 
deer  or  bear.  Too  noisy  for  one,  Isidro  judged, 
too  still  for  the  other.  His  horse  whinnied  and 
halted.  Wild  horses,  no  doubt,  or  an  Indian  rid 
ing  at  random  in  the  scrub.  He  had  come  to 
the  end  of  his  trail  and  was  forced  to  pick  his 
way.  Once  in  the  pauses  of  this  business  he 
heard  the  clank  of  bridle  bit,  but  nothing  came 
up  with  him.  By  this  he  became  sure  he  was 
followed.  Little  hints  of  sound,  a  pricking  be 
tween  his  shoulders,  the  unease  of  his  horse, 
kept  him  on  the  alert.  Covering  the  rise  of  the 
hill,  he  looked  back  to  see  the  scrub  moving 
where  a  horse,  led  by  his  rider,  came  after  him. 
His  own  horse  saw  and  whinnied  ;  the  led  horse 

83 


ISIDRO 

answered.  Then  began  a  conversation  between 
those  two ;  it  seemed  of  friendly  import,  but 
conveyed  no  information  to  the  rider.  Isidro 
cleared  an  open  space  at  a  gallop,  backed  under 
a  hanging  rock,  and  waited. 

It  was  by  this  time  noon,  hot  and  dim ;  a  bank 
of  white  cloud  hung  low  in  the  west  above  the 
sea ;  purple  haze  lay  like  a  web  along  the  scrub. 
No  birds  broke  silence  but  the  telltale  jays. 
Isidro  could  hear  the  horse  slowly  breaking  his 
way  up  the  steep.  Since  the  rider  had  dismounted 
Isidro  could  make  nothing  of  him  until  he  came 
full  into  the  cleared  space  before  him.  It  was  El 
Zarzo.  He  must  have  expected  to  come  up  with 
Isidro  hereabout,  for  he  gave  neither  start  nor 
sign  when  the  other  hailed  him.  Said  he,  — 

"  How  goes  the  trail,  senor  ?  " 

"  My  faith,  lad,  you  gave  me  a  turn.  Where 
go  you  ?  " 

"  I,  senor  ?  I  go  to  the  Presidio  of  Monterey 
in  your  company."  The  lad  was  imperturbably 
impudent. 

"  Caramba !  I  cannot  take  you ;  it  is  ridiculous ! 
What  will  the  old  man  say  ?  " 

84 


THE  BRIAE 

"  l*hat   you   are   very    discourteous,    since   I 
have  guided  you  so  far,  and  you  refuse  me  the 


same." 


"Eh,  it  can  prick,  this  Briar,"  said  Isidro 
"  Did  he  bid  you  follow  me  ?  " 

El  Zarzo  looked  calmly  out  across  the  lilac 
bloom.  "  It  grows  late,"  he  said. 

Isidro  became  grave. 

"  Think,  lad,  there  is  no  friend  there  to  do 
you  a  kindness.  As  for  me,  I  know  not  how  I 
shall  fare  where  I  go,  nor  how  long  remain." 

"  There  have  been  few  to  do  me  kindness,  that 
I  should  look  for  it." 

"  Your  father  "  — 

"  He  is  not  my  father." 

"  I  refuse  to  take  you." 

"  The  trail  is  free,  senor."  The  lad  breathed 
deeply  and  his  face  was  troubled,  but  he  was 
not  to  be  shaken. 

"  Peste  !  "  cried  Isidro.  He  wheeled  his  horse 
about,  and  made  off  at  a  keen  pace ;  his  mount 
was  of  good  blood,  and  proved  the  mettle  of  his 
pasture,  but  the  hill  pony  had  the  lighter  load. 
He  was  never  a  full  cry  behind.  On  a  stony 

85 


ISIDRO 

slope,  Isidro,  doubling  on  his  trail,  came  once 
face  to  face  with  him. 

"  Boy,  boy !  "  he  cried,  "  do  you  know  what 
you  do?" 

"  I  go  to  Monterey,  senor." 

Isidro  unbent  suddenly  with  laughter. 

"  So,"  he  said ;  "  we  will  go  better  in  com 
pany."  They  struck  into  the  valley  presently,  and 
jogged  on  comfortably  side  by  side. 


VII 

THE  ROAD  TO  CARMELO 

^— ^   *HE  riders  were  now  upon  the  main 
mr         \V&\   «,*;i™~  0£  ^ne  coastwise  hills ;  from 


T 


this  vantage  they  saw  the  land 
slope,  by  terraces  unevenly  wooded, 
to  the  floor  of  the  valley  where  the  Salinas 
ran.  Here  was  a  sag  in  the  ridge  that  gave 
easy  passage.  North  and  south  the  range 
showed  brokenly ;  west,  the  valley  rolled 
1 1  up  into  blunt  rounded  hills ;  beyond  them 
$  lay  the  sea.  They  watched  the  shift  and 
play  of  light  above  it  all  day  long.  Between  the 
trees  on  the  slope  the  scrub  was  thick  and  close ; 
all  the  gullies  were  choked  with  the  waste  of 
years.  There  were  deer  here,  but  no  antelope; 
even  at  this  distance  they  could  make  out  a 
number  of  bears  feeding  on  mast  under  the  wide 
oaks.  The  riders  steered  by  the  road  house  that 
made  a  white  speck  by  the  river;  an  hour  later 
they  heard  the  singing  of  the  ford. 

87 


ISIDRO 

They  had  shrewd  shift  crossing,  for  the  river 
ran  full  and  swift ;  the  horses  had  to  swim  for  it. 
The  Escobar  finery  was  hardly  so  fine  by  now. 
They  slept  early  at  the  road  house,  where  the  lad 
passed  for  a  servant,  and  lay  at  Isidro's  feet ; 
dawn  end  saw  them  riding  forward  in  a  weeping 
fog,  saddle  weary,  but  very  good  company. 
Isidro  turned  questioner  in  his  turn  ;  the  lad  told 
him  freely  of  himself  and  his  way  of  life.  That 
was  not  much  ;  he  stuck  to  it  that  his  mother  was 
an  Indian,  a  Cahuiallas  ;  Peter  Lebecque  no  kin 
of  his,  —  "  my  mother's  man,"  he  said.  Their 
life  was  all  of  the  hills,  hunting  and  trapping, 
following  the  shifting  of  wild  creatures  for  their 
food  and  housing.  They  had  never  gone  into  the 
settlements ;  it  seemed  there  was  some  obscure 
reason  for  this.  Isidro  made  a  shrewd  guess  that 
the  woman  might  have  been  enticed  away  from 
one  of  the  Missions,  and  was  wary  of  a  forced 
return.  The  lad  had  seen  only  Indians,  vaqueros, 
and  some  such  wayfarer  as  Escobar.  It  had  been 
a  rough  life,  but  he  showed  no  roughness ;  he 
had  been  servilely  bred,  but  used  no  servility. 

Of  his  errand  at  the  Presidio  of  Monterey,  if 
88 


THE  ROAD   TO  CARMELO 

errand  he  had,  he  would  say  nothing.  He  showed 
Isidro  a  package  of  coin,  curious  concerning  the 
value  and  use  of  it,  avowing  that  he  had  it  from 
Peter  Lebecque ;  upon  which  the  young  man 
made  sure  the  trapper  had  sent  him,  but  he  gave 
over  trying  to  probe  that  affair. 

"Keep  your  own  secret,  lad,"  he  said  good- 
humoredly.  "  But  you  are  young  to  be  seeking 
your  fortune  in  this  fashion.  Where  will  you  go 
in  Monterey  ?  " 

"  Ah,  with  you,  senor,"  breathed  the  lad,  with 
something  quick  and  wistful  in  his  eyes.  Isidro 
laughed.  Priest  or  no  priest,  he  had  a  good  deal 
of  the  zest  of  life  in  him ;  the  sense  of  companion 
ship  quickened  it.  If  the  lad  took  kindly  to  him, 
it  was  no  more  than  the  kindness  he  showed  to 
the  lad.  By  Our  Lady,  they  would  see  something 
of  the  world,  even  out  of  a  cassock.  Their  blood 
sang  to  a  pretty  tune  ;  they  rode  forward  merrily. 
By  noon  they  saw  below  them  the  chimes  in  the 
east  tower  of  Carmelo.  They  saw  the  sea,  and, 
that  being  new  to  them,  stayed  rein  to  snuff  the 
wind  of  it  like  a  strong  wine  of  excitement.  Rid 
ing  into  the  Mission  grounds  Isidro  grew  grave. 

89 


ISIDEO 

"  Look  now/'  he  said,  "  here  is  the  end  of  my 
going  at  my  own  will.  I  shall  find  the  Padre 
Presidente  here  or  at  Monterey  and  give  myself 
into  his  hands.  Whatever  I  am  able  to  do  for 
you,  that  I  will  do,  but  you  must  be  obedient  in 
all  things ;  so  you  will  win  the  Padre's  good  will, 
and  in  any  private  concern  I  will  bespeak  you 
fairly.  More  I  cannot  promise.  Here  let  us  rest." 

By  a  brook  under  an  oak  Isidro  braided  his 
hair  and  set  his  dress  in  order.  They  fell  in  with 
a  band  of  neophytes  going  to  dinner  from  a 
meadow  where  they  had  been  marking  calves. 
The  Indians  had  stripped  to  the  work,  but  they 
had  each  a  shirt  which  they  put  on  as  they  went. 
They  wore  little  else,  —  a  loin  cloth  and  a  strip 
of  kerchief  about  the  brows.  Some  of  them  had 
protected  their  legs  with  strips  of  hide  wound 
about  and  about. 

A  great  body  of  white  cloud  brooded  over  the 
land;  the  shadow  of  it  dappled  the  hills.  A 
wind  came  up  from  the  sea  and  brought  the  breath 
of  orchard  bloom.  The  neophytes  fell  into  lines 
two  and  two;  another  band  came  in  from  the 
fields  and  streamed  alongside  them.  They  raised 

90 


THE  ROAD   TO  CARMELO 

a  crooning  chant,  timing  their  feet  as  they  went. 
The  bell  cried  noon  from  the  tower. 

The  Father  President  came  out  of  the  church, 
and  Isidro  knelt  to  receive  his  blessing.  At  the 
meal  which  followed  he  was  made  acquainted 
with  the  resident  Padres,  —  Pablo  Gomez  and 
Ignacio  Salazar,  —  and  with  Fray  Demetrio. 

It  was  a  very  comfortable  meal,  —  soup  with 
force-meat  balls,  chicken,  beef  dressed  with  pep 
pers,  a  dish  of  spiced  pumpkin,  another  of  fried 
beans,  fine  flour  cakes,  and  light  sour  wine  of  the 
Mission's  own  making.  An  Indian  servitor  stood 
at  the  Father  President's  back  ;  the  napery  was 
white  and  fine.  Isidro  gave  the  news  of  Las 
Plumas,  the  progress  of  his  father's  malady,  the 
tale  of  the  flocks,  the  growth  of  the  vine  cuttings 
Father  Saavedra  had  sent  the  year  before ;  but 
of  his  journey,  of  the  incident  of  the  Indian 
under  the  oak,  of  Noe  and  Reina  Maria  he  said 
nothing ;  these  were  matters  too  small  for  the 
Father  President's  ear.  Neither  did  Saavedra  say 
anything  of  his  schemes,  nor  what  he  would  ad 
vise  for  the  young  man ;  the  time  was  not  ripe. 

They  walked  out  afterward  in  the  pleasant  air. 
91 


ISIDRO 

The  neophytes  were  getting  back  to  their  work, 
children  lay  asleep,  and  women  sat  spinning  and 
weaving  in  the  sun.  The  Mission  San  Carlos 
Borromeo  stands  on  an  elevation,  its  buildings 
inclosing  an  imposing  square.  On  the  north  side 
the  church,  which  was  built  in  a  single  aisle, 
reared  its  two  towers,  brooding  above  the  first 
foundation  of  Junipero  Serra,  el  Capella  de  los 
Dolores.  Adjoining  the  church  were  the  cloisters 
j  of  the  priests,  opening  into  the  long  dining-room ; 
beyond  that  the  kitchen.  The  store-rooms,  shops, 
smithy,  the  quarters  of  the  major-domo,  and  the 
huts  of  the  neophytes  made  up  the  four  sides  of 
the  quadrangle,  in  the  midst  of  which  stood  the 
whipping-post  and  stocks.  All  the  walls  were  of 
adobe,  whitewashed,  shining  in  the  sun ;  all  the 
roofs  of  tile,  brick  red ;  all  the  floors,  except  that 
of  the  church,  of  stamped  earth,  swept  daily. 
Two  bells  hung  in  the  west  tower,  three  in  the 
east,  reached  by  an  outside  stair.  One  was  rung 
for  meals,  for  rising,  for  beginning  and  quitting 
work.  For  the  offices  of  Holy  Church  they  rang 
the  chimes.  So  Padre  Vicente  explained  to  young 

Escobar. 

92 


THE   ROAD   TO   CARMELO 

Very  pleasantly,  very  much  at  ease  in  the 
golden  afternoon,  they  went  from  storehouse  to 
smithy,  from  chapel  to  orchard.  They  saw  the 
rows  of  huts  of  the  married  neophytes,  orderly 
and  four  square  like  a  village  street ;  saw  the 
carved  Christ  above  the  high  altar  flanked  by  the 
patron  of  the  Mission,  and  San  Antonio  with  the 
Child.  They  said  a  prayer  by  the  bones  of  Serra, 
and  bowed  before  the  Stations  of  the  Cross. 
Then  they  went  out  into  the  quadrangle  to  see  a 
man  flogged  for  stealing  a  hen. 

The  fellow  had  fifteen  lashes,  and  bore  them 
stolidly,  putting  on  his  shirt  again  with  the 
greatest  good-humor ;  doubtless  he  thought  the 
dinner  worth  it.  Isidro  looked  out  to  sea ;  he 
felt  a  little  queasily  at  the  sound  of  blows,  and  so 
missed  the  point  of  the  Padre's  observation  on 
the  Church's  duty  of  rendering  spiritual  relief 
according  to  the  fault.  At  Las  Plumas  they  had 
Indian  servants  who  did  about  as  pleased  them,, 
except  when  the  old  Don  was  in  a  passion,  and 
threw  things  at  them.  If  the  women  misbehaved, 
their  husbands  dealt  with  them  in  a  homely 
fashion,  but  they  never  called  it  spiritual  relief. 

93 


ISIDRO 

Isidro  had  a  moment  of  doubting  if  he  should 
really  make  a  good  priest. 

He  walked  after  that  for  a  space  with  Saavedra 
in  the  Mission  garden,  where  young  fruit  was 
setting  on  the  trees,  and  the  vines  blossoming. 
The  Padre  showed  him  some  experiments  in  hor 
ticulture  newly  under  way,  grafting  of  delicate 
fruits  on  wild  stock.  They  flourished  hardily. 
"  So,"  said  the  Father  President,  "  is  the  vine  of 
Christian  grace  engrafted  on  this  root  of  sav 
agery,  fruitful  unto  salvation." 

Isidro  was  not  thinking  of  souls  just  then.  He 
was  suddenly  smit  with  a  sense  of  the  material 
competency  of  the  Brotherhood  of  St.  Francis. 
He  remembered  his  life  in  old  Mexico  with  his 
mother,  where  all  his  thoughts  of  the  priesthood 
had  gathered  about  the  cathedral  and  the  altar 
services.  Now  it  occurred  to  him  that  to  be  a 
good  priest  in  this  new  land  one  must  first  be  a 
better  man.  It  was  not  by  blinking  the  works 
that  men  do  that  the  Padres  had  established 
themselves  among  the  heathen,  but  by  doing 
them,  —  making  themselves  masons,  builders, 
artists^  horticulturists ;  dealing  with  sheep-scab, 

94 


THE   KOAD   TO   CAKMELO 

weeds,  alkaline  soil,  and  evil  beasts.  It  appeared 
that  God  was  also  served  by  these  things.  This 
prompted  him  to  put  some  question  to  the  Father 
President  concerning  the  disposition  of  himself. 
Saavedra  responded  with  an  invitation  to  Isidro 
to  make  with  him  the  round  of  the  missions  of 
Alta  California,  which  progress  should  begin 
within  a  fortnight.  The  proposal  fell  in  with  the 
young  man's  mood  of  adventure.  The  Father 
President  and  Escobar  began  to  be  well  pleased 
with  each  other. 

Returned  to  the  Mission  buildings  the  Padre 
found  work  cut  out  for  him  ;  a  poor  soul  want 
ing  the  mercy  of  the  Church.  Padre  Salazar  was 
at  a  bedside  in  Monterey,  Padre  Gomez  in  the 
meadow  of  oaks  overseeing  the  counting  of  calves ; 
the  Father  President  himself  went  into  the  con 
fessional.  Outside  they  heard  the  evening  bustle 
of  the  Mission  as  of  a  very  considerable  town,  — 
children  crying,  dogs  barking,  and  the  laughter 
of  young  girls.  Men  gathered  in  from  the  far 
thest  fields  ;  the  smell  of  cooking  rose  and  mixed 
with  the  smell  of  the  orchard  and  the  sea.  It 
was  the  hour  for  evening  service,  and  an  altar 

95 


ISIDRO 

ministrant  crept  up  to  snuff  the  tall  candles  that 
burned  before  San  Antonio  with  the  Child.  The 
ringers  in  the  belfry  shook  the  chimes ;  a  veil  of 
fog  came  up  and  hid  the  sea. 

The  poor  soul  at  the  confessional  rocked  side- 
wise  uneasily  upon  his  knees ;  not  much  account 
to  look  at,  a  shepherd  by  his  dress,  young,  low 
browed,  dark,  with  dirty,  fidging  fingers,  a  fresh 
cut  upon  his  face  running  into  the  unshaven  jaw. 
Most  plainly  of  all  he  was  in  the  grip  of  grief 
or  terror  too  large  for  his  shallow  holding,  that 
marred  his  smartness  as  the  bubbling  of  pitch 
fouls  the  pot.  The  penitent's  tale  ran  on,  mum 
bled,  eager,  with  many  a  missed  word  painstak 
ingly  recovered :  "  I  accuse  myself  of  the  sin  of 
envy  —  of  drunkenness,  of  neglect  of  holy  ordi 
nances  "  —  various  sins  of  omission  and  commis 
sion.  All  this  was  merely  perfunctory ;  counter 
to  it  ran  the  deep  mutter  of  the  priest,  "  What 
more,  my  son,  what  more?"  At  last  it  was  all 
out,  —  envy  and  drunkenness  and  hate,  ending 
in  a  slain  man  lying  out  on  a  pleasant  heath  with 
his  mouth  to  the  earth  and  blue  flies  drinking 

his  blood. 

96 


THE  ROAD   TO   CARMELO 

All  judgments  are  mixed.  Padre  Saavedra 
might  have  bidden  the  man  surrender  to  the  civil 
authorities,  but  he  thought  perhaps  the  civil  au 
thorities  claimed  too  much,  and  there  are  better 
uses  to  put  a  man  to  than  execution.  Besides, 
here  was  a  reasonable  doubt  as  to  the  degree 
of  criminality ;  both  men  were  drunken,  one  of 
them  had  suffered  grievance,  —  without  con 
scious  fraud  Ruiz  had  put  that  forward,  —  and 
no  knowing  whose  had  been  the  first  provoca 
tion.  Whatever  Mariano's  share  in  it,  and  the 
confessor  judged  it  must  have  been  considerable, 
he  was  now  gone  out  of  the  Padre's  jurisdiction. 
Perhaps  he  had  known  the  Portuguese  without 
finding  in  the  knowledge  any  warrant  for  hold 
ing  him  blameless.  Was  it  fair,  then,  that  the 
other  should  bear  the  brunt  of  punishment  ? 

"Is  there  any  circumstance  known  to  you," 
he  had  asked  Ruiz,  "  by  which  it  is  possible  that 
any  other  should  come  to  suffer  for  the  evil  you 
have  done  ?  " 

"  None,  none,"  protested  the  poor  herder. 

"  But  should  any  arise  "  — 

"  Ah,  Padre,  Padre,"  interrupted  the  penitent, 
97 


ISIDRO 

"  I  am  a  poor  man,  and  of  but  small  account. 
Give  me  ease  for  my  conscience,  and  if  it  should 
come  to  pass  that  any  be  falsely  accused  or  suffer 
because  of  me,  I  am  in  your  hands.  Do  you  but 
come  after  me,  Padre,  and  I  shall  make  all  things 
plain." 

Ruiz  had  not  much  imagination.  This  was  a 
safe  promise,  he  thought,  for  once  freed  of  blood- 
guiltiness  he  could  not  conceive  how  it  should 
come  up  to  trouble  him  again. 

There  was  an  art  once  of  making  cups  so  that 
if  but  clearest  water  was  poured  in  them  it  be 
came  medicated,  turgid,  or  hurtful,  with  the 
properties  of  the  vessel ;  so,  often,  the  saintliest 
soul  takes  a  color  from  its  human  holding.  Did 
the  Padre,  flinching  a  little  at  the  abasement 
of  his  divinely  derived  authority  before  the  en 
croachments  of  the  state,  and  leaning  always 
toward  mercy  for  the  sake  of  this  simple  people 
from  whom  he  might  yet  be  torn,  appease  him 
self  with  the  secret  exercise  of  priestly  powers  ? 
At  any  rate,  he  made  the  shepherd  an  obligation 
of  prayers  and  alms,  masses  said  for  the  mur 
dered  man,  no  more  drunkenness.  This  was 


THE   KOAD   TO   CARMELO 

hard,  and,  moreover,  he  should  go  back  and  bury 
the  dead  decently  out  of  sight.  This  was  harder, 
but  here  was  no  family  to  compensate,  no  restitu 
tion  of  stolen  goods  to  make.  What  else  ?  Then 
he  made  inquiry  where  the  place  of  the  unblest 
grave  might  be  found,  for  he  had  it  in  mind  to 
pass  by  it  in  his  itinerary  and  do  what  lay  within 
his  holy  office  for  the  sake  of  the  murdered  man. 
And  having  concluded  these  things  he  gave  Ruiz 
release. 

"  Go  in  peace,  my  son,  and  may  the  God  of 
Peace  go  with  thee.  Absolvo  te"  The  penitent 
crept  out  into  the  dark  with  a  mingled  expres 
sion  of  cunning  and  relief. 

Indians  gathered  in  to  the  evening  service ; 
the  candles  glowed  on  the  high  altar.  Isidro 
went  in  with  the  others.  He  had  not  attended 
service  in  a  church  since  he  had  been  a  child  in 
old  Mexico;  the  recollection  came  back  dimly, 
and  with  it  a  memory  of  his  mother.  He  remem 
bered  why  he  was  here  and  what  it  purported. 
The  smell  of  incense  and  candle  smoke,  the  ris 
ing  and  falling  of  the  bent  worshipers  as  they 
followed  the  ritual,  the  mellow  droning  voices 

99 


ISIDRO 

lifted  his  soul  above  the  sense  of  time  and  things. 
He  saw  the  saints  in  Paradise  and  souls  in  Pur 
gatory  ;  sweat  broke  out  upon  him ;  a  great  pant 
ing  shook  his  heart ;  he  was  taken  with  the  hun 
ger  of  souls.  There  was  no  doubt  about  it  that 
Isidro  would  make  an  excellent  priest.  Toward 
the  end  of  the  service,  a  little  wearied  of  his  own 
fervor  and  the  hardness  of  the  floor,  his  eyes 
strayed  to  the  lad  Zarzo,  who  watched  him  from 
his  station  under  the  choir.  He  met  two  great 
eyes  of  burning  and  amazement,  a  hint  of  won 
der,  and  along  with  it  something  of  the  dumb 
brute's  envy  of  the  man.  A  wave  of  kindness 
overtook  the  young  man.  It  occurred  to  him 
that  although  the  lad  was  plainly  a  Christian 
there  remained  much  that  might  be  done  for  his 
soul's  good. 


VIII 

MASCADO 

SIDRO  judged  himself  done  with 
the  business  of  Juan  Ruiz  and  his 
sheep,  but,  in  fact,  he  was  not  yet 
to  see  the  end.  The  night  that 
Escobar  supped  with  the  Father  President 
at  San  Carlos,  Peter  Lebecque  had  also  a 
guest.  He  came  at  dusk,  lighting  down 
from  his  horse,  —  a  newly  caught  wild 
bronco  of  the  hills  in  a  rawhide  halter. 
He  came  as  one  accustomed  to  that  hostel, 
and  gave  no  greeting.  The  old  trapper  silently 
made  additions  to  his  evening  meal;  the  dogs 
came  one  by  one  and  put  their  noses  to  the 
newcomer  in  recognition.  He  was,  no  doubt,  an 
Indian,  but  owning  a  lighter  strain,  a  skin  less 
swart,  a  mould  less  stocky,  a  hint  of  hotter, 
swifter  thought.  Except  for  the  loin  cloth  he 
was  naked ;  his  blanket,  folded,  served  him  for 
a  saddle ;  around  his  neck  in  a  deerskin  sheath 
hung  a  knife ;  around  his  brows  the  inevitable 

101 


ISIDRO 

bright  bandeau  of  woven  stuff,  —  the  knotted 
.jends,  fringed  with  abalone  shell,  hung  down  and 
mingled  with  his  hair.  His  breast  was  black  with 
bruises  and  scars  of  half-healed  cuts. 

"  Where  from,  Mascado  ?  "    said  Lebecque. 

"Los  Tulares;  the  elk  shift  their  feeding- 
ground  from  the  lake  to  the  river;  the  young 
are  dropped  early  this  year."  So  he  gave  the 
news  of  the  road,  —  three  hundred  calves  branded 
at  Las  Plumas,  Red  Baptiste  slain  by  a  bear,  a 
feud  between  the  Obehebes  and  Ohio's  following. 
Lebecque  answered  with  the  tale  of  his  traps  and 
pelts.  All  this  was  made  talk,  while  the  rene 
gade's  eyes  kept  a-roving,  up  the  swale,  along 
the  creek,  in  the  alleys  of  shade  under  the  grape 
vines  ;  his  ears  appeared  to  prick  a  little  like  a 
dog's  at  noises.  Lebecque  leered  at  his  cooking 
pots  with  his  back  to  his  guest,  his  mouth  screwed 
in  a  fit  of  obscene  mirth. 

"  Eat,"  he  said  at  last,  when  all  was  done ;  but 
no  talk  interfered  with  that  business.  After  food, 
drink.  Lebecque  fished  up  a  bottle  from  some 
crypt  under  the  vines;  with  drink,  talking. 

"  Eh,  Mascado,  wine  is  good  !  "  cried  the  trap- 
102 


MASCADO 

per.  "Drink,  Mascado;  drink  deep.  Another 
cup  ?  "  The  old  rascal's  tongue  had  got  wagging 
at  last.  "  Drink,  Mascado ;  El  Zarzo  will  not 
come.  You  are  looking  for  him  ?  You  have  some 
thing  to  say  to  him  ?  Well,  you  will  have  to  say 
it  to  me,  Mascado  ;  it  will  be  long  before  you  see 
him  again.  Drink,  Mascado." 

The  Indian  took  another  cup  to  beat  down 
the  embarrassment  that  threatened  to  rise  and 
flood  him. 

"Where  is  she?"  he  said. 

"  Where  ?  How  should  I  know  ?  Who  keeps 
the  trail  of  a  flown  bird  ?  Ah,  Mascado,  you  are 
too  late ;  the  Briar  has  bloomed  in  your  absence, 
and  another  man  has  plucked  the  rose." 

The  Indian's  lids  narrowed. 

"  Speak  straight,  Lebecque." 

The  old  trapper  began  to  sigh  and  wag  his 
head  prodigiously. 

"  Ah,  the  women,  Mascado ;  they  are  all  of  a 
piece ;  you  think  you  have  known  them  all  your 
life,  you  think  you  have  them ;  comes  a  fine  sprig 
of  a  caballero  and  gives  them  the  tail  of  his  eye, 
off  they  go." 

103 


ISIDRO 

The  Indian  struck  the  table  with  his  hand  un 
til  the  bottle  jumped. 

"  Where  is  she  ?  "  he  said  again. 

"  Where  ?  At  Monterey,  I  think.  It  is  a  very 
pleasant  town,  I  have  heard,  a  gay  town.  Eh, 
Mascado  ?  If  you  should  go  there,  Mascado,  you 
could  tell  me  how  my  Briar  blooms  in  the  sea 
air."  He  leaned  his  arms  on  the  table  and  shook 
with  chuckling.  The  Indian  was  a  renegade  from 
the  Mission  San  Carlos ;  if  he  so  much  as  put  his 
nose  in  that  direction  he  smelt  the  whipping 
post. 

"  Have  you  let  her  go,  Lebecque,  have  you  let 
her  go?" 

"Ah,  what  is  an  old  fellow  like  me  to  a  fine 
young  gentleman  in  velvet  ?  Velvet  smallclothes, 
Mascado,  with  silver  trimmings.  You  see,  Mas 
cado,  I  am  old ;  my  face  is  not  good  to  me ;  I 
have  no  fine  garments,  no  silver,  no  lace,  no 
manners.  Ah,  ah,  what  could  I  do  ? "  The  old 
villain's  allusions  were  pointed  each  with  a  leer ; 
his  shoulders  shook.  "  Why,  now,  Mascado,  you 
take  it  hard.  My  word,  you  are  quite  excited 
over  it.  So  am  I;  see  how  my  hand  shakes." 

104 


MASCADO 

(So  it  did,  with  indecent  mirth.)  "  Take  a  drink, 
Mascado  ;  it  will  do  you  good." 

Said  Mascado,  "When?" 

"  Ah,  a  matter  of  two  or  three  days  ago,  quite 
three  days  ago.  They  will  be  in  Monterey  by 
now.  More  wine,  Mascado?  Wine  is  good  against 
grief,  and  you  are  plainly  grieved,  Mascado.  So 
am  I." 

There  was  something  keen  in  the  old  man's 
feeling  of  the  situation,  something  earnest  in  the 
dry  sobs  of  laughter,  something  hidden  that 
stung,  something  open  that  was  meant  to  soothe; 
the  Indian  sat  fuming,  but  uncertain. 

"  I  have  watched,  Mascado  ;  the  old  man  has 
eyes.  I  have  seen  the  thought  grow  in  you ;  you 
would  have  set  my  Briar  to  grow  in  your  own 
door,  Mascado,  and  now  she  has  gone.  He  was  a 
very  fine  gentleman,  a  very  good  family,  and 
rich,  Mascado,  very  rich." 

The  Indian  sprang  to  his  feet.  "  A  fine  gen 
tleman,  say  you  ?  Was  he  smooth  and  young  ? 
Had  he  an  eye  like  a  bird's  ?  Had  he  a  bay  horse 
with  one  white  fore  foot  and  a  long  scar  on  his 
belly?  Ah,  ah ! "  The  man  twisted  and  shook 

105 


ISIDRO 

like  an  eel  in  a  spit;  his  eyes  stood  out;  his 
words  choked  him.  He  shook  his  knife ;  he  was 
plainly  in  a  great  fume,  and  something  warred 
with  his  rage  to  beat  it  down. 

"  A  fine  gentleman,  ha  !  All  in  black  with  sil 
ver,  and  a  way  with  him  that  said,  '  You  are  the 
dust  under  my  feet,  therefore  expect  no  harm  of 
me/  Ah,  I  know  him." 

Lebecque  pricked  up  his  ears. 

"  If  you  know  him  I  doubt  you  know  nothing 
good."  Again  the  Indian  shook  like  a  candle  in 
a  gust.  "  And  if  you  know  him,  Mascado,  you 
can  perhaps  tell  me  how  he  came  by  the  flock 
and  the  dogs  of  Juan  Ruiz." 

"  This  day  week,"  said  Mascado,  "  Juan  Ruiz 
fed  the  flock  at  the  Mesa  Buena  Vista ;  he  had 
with  him  Noe  and  Reina  Maria.  I  have  not  seen 
him  since."  It  was  plain  he  had  no  notion  how 
this  should  concern  him. 

"  Three  days  ago,"  said  Lebecque,  "  this  cabal- 
lero  came  to  my  house,  here  at  the  Grapevine,  at 
sundown.  He  rode  a  bay  horse  with  a  white  fore 
foot ;  I  did  not  notice  the  scar.  He  was  driving 
the  flock  of  Mariano  the  Portuguese.  I  knew  the 

106 


MASCADO 

brand,  and  by  the  dogs  that  were  with  him  I 
knew  the  flock  for  that  one  kept  by  Juan  Ruiz. 
The  dogs  were  plainly  fagged;  Noe  had  the 
marks  of  teeth  on  him." 

"  Said  he  anything  for  himself?  " 

"  Why,  that  he  had  found  them  at  the  head 
of  Oak  Creek  by  the  ford,  and  no  sign  of  the 
shepherd.  A  likely  tale,  think  you,  Mascado  ? 
For  look  now,  the  flock  had  not  been  frightened, 
—  that  was  plain,  —  nor  diminished  since  I  saw 
it,  and  that  in  a  land  where  the  coyotes  are  like 
cattle  for  numbers,  and  the  bears  carry  off  the 
sheep  from  under  the  shepherd's  eyes.  And  look 
you  again,  —  this  young  man  washed  before 
meat,  and  there  was  blood  on  his  hands  and  on 
his  ruffles.  I  saw  it;  blood,  Mascado." 

The  half-breed's  lips  curled  backward  from  his 
teeth,  his  breath  came  whistling. 

"  Which  way  came  he  ?  " 

"By  Deer  Spring,  where  we  killed  the  big  buck. 
He  came  on  Zarzito  suddenly  in  mid-afternoTon, 
and  professed  not  to  know  whose  sheep  he  had." 

"  Which  way  went  he  ?  " 

"  Toward  Pasteria,  to  bring  the  flock  to  Mari- 
107 


ISIDRO 

ano's  men.  Maybe;  maybe  not.  What  should 
an  Escobar  care  for  a  stray  flock  ?  Foul  work, 
Mascado." 

"  Ay,  foul."  The  mestizo  ran  over  with  curses 
that  made  the  flesh  creep.  Lebecque  pushed  over 
the  bottle. 

"  Cursing  is  dry  work,"  he  said  ;  "  what  would 
you  do?" 

"  That !  "  Mascado  whipped  his  knife  into  the 
table  until  the  tempered  blade  rapped  the  handle 
on  the  boards. 

"  They  are  not  your  sheep,  Mascado,  nor  your 
shepherd." 

"  There  is  Zarzito,"  said  the  Indian. 

Lebecque  sniggered.  "  Neither  is  that  yours, 
oh,  my  friend." 

For  all  answer  Mascado  struck  his  blade  into 
the  table  again.. 

"  Ah,  put  up  your  knife ;  he  has  pistols,  big 
and  silver-handled ;  he  is  a  fine  gentleman,  I  tell 
you." 

"  Fine  gentlemen  have  throats." 

"Put  up  your  knife,  I  say.  He  is  in  Monte 
rey;  the  rose  is  plucked.  Drink,  Mascado." 

108 


MASCADO 

The  night  wore,  the  fire  dropped  flickering 
on  the  hearth,  the  candle  guttered ;  Lebecque 
drained  the  bottle,  drained  himself  dry  of  ras 
cally  wit,  and  stumbled  off  to  drunken  slumber. 
The  Indian  sat  at  the  table  ever  of  two  minds, 
blown  hot  and  cold.  He  sheathed  his  blade  and 
unsheathed  it ;  his  muscles  flexed  and  heaved ; 
rage  shuddered  in  him,  and  went  out.  The  dying 
fire  touched  the  high  glistening,  curves  of  his 
body,  and  made  moving  shadows  on  his  face. 
The  fire  snapped  and  went  out.  Dark  lapped  up 
about  him ;  the  little  candle  made  an  island  of 
light  for  his  face  to  shine  in  ;  it  lit  his  high  cheek 
bones,  glimmered  on  the  shell  fringes  of  his  ker 
chief,  on  the  whetted  blade.  The  candle  guttered 
and  went  out. 

Waking  late,  Lebecque  found  himself  alone. 
"Eh,  eh,"  he  grunted,  "let  him  go.  It  wiU  not 
be  to  Monterey,  I  warrant.  The  good  Padres 
have  a  rod  in  pickle.  The  swine !  He  would 
have  the  Briar  to  bloom  by  his  wickiup,  would 
he  ?  The  wild  hawk  would  mate  with  the  dove. 
And  he  thought  Lebecque  would  give  him 
his  blessing  ?  Eh,  let  him  go ;  I  have  served 

109 


ISIDKO 

him  well."    So  he  grumbled  over  his  morning 
meal. 

Mascado  had  not  gone  to  Monterey.  He  had 
done  what  would  serve  his  purpose  better  for  that 
turn.  He  went  about  to  pick  up  the  trail  of  Isi- 
dro  and  the  sheep.  The  rain  that  had  fallen  be 
tween  times  made  it  slow  going,  but  he  knew  in 
the  main  where  the  trail  should  be.  In  the  course 
of  the  morning  he  came  to  the  ford  of  Oak  Creek. 
Here  the  storm  had  fringed  out  to  a  passing 
shower  that  had  scarcely  penetrated  the  thick 
roof  of  leaves.  He  found  the  bones  of  the  sheep 
that  Isidro  had  killed,  and  the  remains  of  the 
fire.  From  there  the  trail  was  sufficiently  plain. 
He  noted  the  vagueness  and  indecision  of  the 
sheep,  the  absence  of  night  fires ;  saw  the  broken 
flower  tops  and  the  bent  grass  where  Noe  and 
Eeina  Maria  had  settled  their  duty  to  the  flock. 
But  one  thing  he  missed, —  that  was  the  trail  of 
Juan  Kuiz,  for  it  lay  in  thick  grass,  and  was  a 
week  old.  He  knew  where  the  flock  should  have 
been,  and  judging  from  his  encounter  with  Esco 
bar  under  the  oaks,  knew  where  he  should  have 
passed  it.  He  pressed  on  after  the  trail  of  the 

110 


MASCADO 

sheep.  This  brought  him  in  time  to  the  Mesa 
Buena  Vista,  and  the  body  of  Mariano. 

One  must  believe  here  that  the  mestizo's  rage 
had  put  him  at  fault,  since  the  truth,  if  he  had 
known  it,  would  have  served  his  purpose  quite  as 
well.  He  knew  Juan  Ruiz  very  little,  and  Mari 
ano  not  at  all.  The  body  had  lain  out  a  week  of 
warm  wet  weather,  and,  besides,  the  coyotes  had 
been  at  it.  He  made  out  a  knife  wound  or  two, 
and  the  evidences  of  a  struggle.  Some  prompt 
ing  of  humanity  or  superstition,  a  remnant  of  his 
Mission  training,  led  him  to  gouge  out  a  shallow 
grave  with  a  knife  and  a  stick.  When  he  had 
pressed  the  earth  upon  it  he  started  forthwith  for 
the  Presidio  of  Monterey.  He  reached  there  the 
third  day,  looked  about,  failed  to  find  what  he 
sought.  Then  he  went  to  San  Carlos. 

Once  a  neophyte  always  a  neophyte,  was  the 
rule  of  the  Padres.  It  had  been  two  years  since 
Mascado  had  left  the  Mission  without  leave,  and 
for  the  second  time.  The  corporal  of  the  guard 
had  brought  him  back  the  first  time.  Mascado 
and  the  whipping-post  kept  a  remembrance  be 
tween  them  of  that  return.  But  now  he  chose  his 

111 


ISIDRO 

time.  It  was  Sunday,  at  the  hour  of  morning 
service.  There  was  no  one  left  outside  the  church. 
Mascado  went  and  stood  in  the  nave  with  unbent 
and  unrepentant  head ;  he  stood  still  and  heard 
the  blessed  mutter  of  the  mass  for  the  space  of  a 
Pater  Noster.  By  that  time  he  had  seen  all  that 
he  wished ;  but  he  had  also  been  seen  and  recog 
nized  by  Padre  Pablo,  by  half-a-dozen  neophytes, 
and  by  the  servant  of  Isidro  Escobar. 


IX 


IN  WHICH   NOTHING  IN  PARTICULAR 
HAPPENS 

HE  time  neared  when  the  Father 
President  should  begin  his  an 
nual  progress  through  the  mis 
sions  of  Alta  California;  the 
rainy  season  drew  to  a  close ;  the 
planted  fields  were  flourishing,  the  cattle  fat. 
Upon  this  journey  he  was  to  discover  to  Escobar 
the  true  glory  of  the  Franciscan  foundations,  to 
send  him  off  to  Mexico  primed  with  ghostly  en 
thusiasm  for  the  work  which  God  in  His  wisdom 
permitted  to  be  threatened  by  the  temporal  powers. 
But  before  that  there  were  some  lesser  matters. 

There  was  this  affair  of  the  Comandante's, 
concerning  which  he  must  be  better  informed. 
Castro  would  be  sending  for  him  at  all  hours  to 
consult  upon  some  new  conjecture  which  he 
had  formed.  There  was,  also,  the  affair  of  the 
renegade  Mascado,  who  had  been  recognized  at 

113 


ISIDRO 

church  the  Sunday  before.  Such  contumacy, 
such  slighting  of  authority,  must  indubitably 
provoke  a  spirit  of  irreverence  in  the  neophytes 
if  not  promptly  brought  to  punishment.  They 
should  have  Mascado  back  and  flogged  within  a 
week,  even  though  Saavedra  must  ask  for  a  detail 
from  the  Presidio  to  fetch  him.  To  be  frank, 
the  forcible  detention  of  neophytes  by  the  Pa 
dres  met  with  scant  countenance  from  the  civil 
authorities,  and  at  this  time  less  than  ever.  The 
Father  President  felt  he  could  ill  afford  to  strain 
the  relations  between  himself  and  the  state,  still 
less  to  let  the  offense  of  Mascado  go  unnoticed. 

In  the  end  he  got  a  corporal  and  two  men 
to  go  with  the  privates  attached  to  the  Mission ; 
the  Comandante's  own  need  of  help  made  him 
kindly  disposed.  The  expedition  was  dispatched 
to  the  south,  since  Mascado  was  reported  to  have 
been  seen  in  that  direction.  For  that  reason  they 
should  have  gone  in  almost  any  other.  At  the 
moment  of  the  soldiers'  departing  Mascado  lay 
within  sound  of  the  sea,  in  cover  of  a  spaley  oak 
wedged  in  a  pit  of  dunes,  known  and  comforted 
by  several  of  the  neophytes. 

114 


IN  WHICH  NOTHING  HAPPENS 

Isidro  had  a  private  matter  which  could  be  best 
attended  to  at  this  time.  Out  of  the  bowels  of 
great  mercy,  and  for  the  greater  ease  of  souls, 
His  Holiness  Pope  Pius  VII  had  endowed  the 
Church  of  the  Holy  Cross  at  Santa  Cruz  with  this 
exceeding  grace,  —  that  every  mass  said  there  for 
the  space  of  one  hundred  years  would  loose  the 
soul  in  whose  interest  it  was  said  from  the  pains 
of  Purgatory.  Isidro  was  to  assist  at  masses 
there  for  his  mother's  sake,  and  if  so  be  she  did 
not  need  them  they  were  to  go  to  the  credit  of 
Don  Antonio,  who  had  doubtless  the  longer  ac 
count.  To  Santa  Cruz,  therefore,  went  Escobar, 
and  with  him  went  the  lad  Zarzito,  who  would 
answer  to  no  Christian  name,  to  the  great  scan 
dal  of  Padres  Gomez  and  Salazar.  He  had  at 
tached  himself  to  Escobar,  in  the  character  of  a 
privileged  dependent,  and  as  such,  largely  for  his 
soul's  sake,  had  won  the  promise  of  accompany 
ing  him  on  the  pilgrimage.  The  two  had  become 
great  friends  by  now.  What  a  youth  needs  to 
smack  the  full  savor  of  new  times  and  adven 
tures  is  the  company  of  another  youth.  It  had 
been  seven  years  since  Isidro  had  seen  a  larger 

115 


ISIDRO 

town  than  Monterey,  and  Zarzito  never  at  all. 
There  was  not  enough  difference  of  schooling  be 
tween  them  to  render  one  unsuited  to  the  other's 
mind,  just  enough  difference  of  caste  to  leave  no 
question  who  should  lead. 

It  was  very  pleasant  weather  to  take  the  road 
in ;  the  way  led  between  the  burnt  splendor  of 
the  poppies  and  the  freshness  of  the  sea,  —  and 
made  one  day's  riding  from  Monterey.  The  last 
mass  celebrated  at  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Cross, 
so  the  Padre  had  told  them,  had  been  said  for 
the  soul  of  a  murdered  man.  Isidro  heard  the 
masses  very  devoutly,  and  in  the  interim  watched 
the  slaughter  of  a  thousand  cattle,  the  hides  and 
tallow  of  which  had  been  bargained  for  by  a 
Yankee  trading  schooner  lying  off-shore.  It  was 
Monday  when  they  set  out,  and  Friday  found 
them  back  at  Carmelo.  Still  the  Father  President 
lingered  over  his  preparations,  waiting  for  tardy 
instructions  from  his  college,  fencing  with  the 
civil  powers  over  small  matters  of  privilege.  Isi 
dro  found  time  to  look  about  him,  and  put  in 
motion  the  work  of  kindness  which  he  purposed 
toward  Peter  Lebecque's  wild  lad. 

116 


IN  WHICH  NOTHING  HAPPENS 

He  had  had  occasion  to  begin  it  on  the  first 
night  of  their  stay  at  the  Mission.  The  retiring 
bell  had  rung,  and  of  the  night  bustle  remained 
only  the  shuffle  of  feet  across  the  quadrangle. 
Isidro  lingered  in  the  corridor  in  late  courtesy 
with  the  Father  President,  watching  the  neo 
phytes  to  their  quarters.  It  was  a  general  rule 
of  all  missions  that  the  unmarried  men  and 
unmarried  women  should  sleep  each  in  separate 
buildings  —  monoferos  —  provided  for  that  pur 
pose,  to  which  only  an  upper  servant  had  the 
key.  Doubtless  the  good  Padres  had  reason. 
The  married  people  slept  in  their  huts  and  the 
young  children  with  them.  On  this  evening, 
about  the  time  when  there  should  have  been  a 
cessation  of  all  noises,  there  came  a  sound  of 
struggle  and  protestation.  It  edged  across  the 
patio  from  the  direction  of  the  monofero,  and 
involved  the  voices  of  Padre  Pablo,  Fray  Deme- 
trio,  and  the  Briar.  Fages  had  the  latter  by  the 
collar,  but  the  lad  contrived  to  keep  an  arm's 
length  between  them. 

"  0  abandoned !  0  apostate !  Despiser  of 
holy  persons,"  began  the  secretary,  pushing  the 

117 


ISIDRO 

lad  before  him.  Isidro  cut  him  short.  It  seemed 
that  the  slight  figure  of  the  boy  swayed  a  little 
in  the  direction  of  Escobar,  as  they  came  up,  but 
the  eyes  were  turned  away.  There  was  a  kind  of 
appeal  that  touched  the  young  man  in  the  very 
abnegation  of  all  claim.  Saavedra  got  the  gist 
of  the  matter  in  a  question  or  two.  The  boy  had 
objected  to  being  locked  up  for  the  night  with 
the  rest  of  the  youths,  and  had  registered  his 
objections  on  the  person  of  Fray  Demetrio. 

"  Let  him  lie  at  my  door,"  said  Escobar ;  "  he 
is  a  good  lad." 

"  Who  is  he  ?  "  asked  Saavedra. 
"  I  had  him  from  Peter  Lebecque  in  the  Ca 
nada  de  las  Uvas.    His  mother  was  a  Cahuiallas, 
so  he  says.    He  is  not  of  the  missions." 

"  Is  he  a  Christian  ?  " 

"  That  I  '11  warrant  he  is  not,"  cried  Fages, 
thinking  of  his  bruises.  But  the  boy  protested  ; 
his  mother  had  always  said  —  "  And,  besides, 
there  was  a  token."  He  wrenched  himself  free 
of  the  secretary,  and  fumbling  at  his  neck,  drew 
out  something  on  a  cord,  which  he  held  toward 
them  in  a  manner  indicating  that  he  would  not 

118 


IN  WHICH  NOTHING  HAPPENS 

have  it  touched.  Padre  Vicente  came  forward 
to  peer  at  it  in  the  candle  flare  ;  at  sight  of  it  he 
crossed  himself  devoutly ;  so  did  the  others. 

"  A  most  holy  token,"  said  the  Father  Presi 
dent.  "  How  came  you  by  it  ?  " 

"  My  mother  said  it  was  a  token  of  my  bap 
tism." 

"  The  medal  of  Our  Lady  of  Seven  Sorrows," 
said  Saavedra.  "  I  doubt  there  is  another  such 
in  Alta  California.  Let  him  go  with  Senor  Esco 
bar;  after  all,  he  is  but  a  lad,  and,  without 
doubt,  a  Christian,  though  somewhat  ill  in 
structed."  It  occurred  to  Isidro  that  he  could 
not  begin  better  than  by  remedying  that  matter. 
Zarzo  put  back  his  treasure  in  his  bosom ;  it  was 
plain  to  see  his  own  respect  for  it  had  risen,  ob 
serving  the  respect  it  won  from  the  others.  For 
that  night,  then,  he  slept  in  the  corridor  at  Isi 
dro  Escobar's  door.  For  the  rest,  he  settled  him 
self  very  well.  It  seemed  he  had  come  to  an 
excellent  understanding  with  a  motherly  soul 
among  the  Indian  women,  who  had  none  of  her 
own  kin,  and  had  quartered  himself  in  her  house. 

"  A  most  commendable  woman,"  Padre  Igna- 
119 


ISIDRO 

cio  told  Escobar;  "one  who  has  known  great 
sorrows,  and  digested  them  to  her  soul's  good. 
Ordinarily  we  do  not  expect  the  treasures  of 
spiritual  experience  from  these  poor  children  of 
the  wilderness,  but  Marta  is  something  more  than 
ordinary.  Her  father,  in  fact,  was  captain  of  the 
tribe,  —  a  man  of  great  influence  in  Serra's  time, 
—  and  Marta  has  the  gift  of  testimony.  I  myself 
have  been  often  lifted  up  to  hear  her  descant 
upon  the  mercies  of  God.  She  has  a  son,  born 
out  of  wedlock,  though  I  cannot  think  it  due  to 
her  fault,  but  a  most  rebellious  youth.  Twice 
has  he  left  the  Mission  without  leave,  to  consort 
with  the  Children  of  Darkness ;  it  is,  in  fact,  he 
whom  the  Father  President  has  dispatched  the 
guard  to  seek.  I  doubt  they  find  him,  but  Marta 
is  a  submissive  soul.  Mary  grant  that  this  lad 
prove  a  comfort  to  her." 

He  was  a  comfort,  at  least,  to  Isidro,  who 
practiced  upon  him  all  the  priestly  airs  which 
most  people  found  to  become  him  vastly.  He 
also  undertook  the  lad's  instruction  in  the  foun 
dations  of  Christian  faith  and  the  lives  of  the 
saints,  much  of  which  he  had  gathered  directly 

120 


IN  WHICH  NOTHING  HAPPENS 

from  books  of  Saavedra's.  Long  mornings,  after 
mass,  the  pair  of  them  would  climb  the  bell 
tower  by  the  outer  stair.  There  Isidro  would 
sit  with  the  sun  on  his  body  and  the  shadow  of 
the  belfry  on  his  book ;  the  sea  airs  made  a  soft 
whisper  about  the  deep-mouthed  chimes  and 
heaped  blown  petals  and  pollen  dust  in  the 
corners  of  the  stairs.  Whiles  he  would  read  in 
some  old  book,  other  whiles  lift  up  his  face  to 
take  in  the  lovely  landscape  like  long  sips  of 
heartening  wine ;  again  he  would  read  or  relate 
monkish  tales  to  the  Briar,  who,  lounging  on 
the  steps  below  him,  found  nothing  better  worth 
looking  at  or  listening  to  than  Escobar.  The 
lad  heard  him  with  that  sidelong  look  of  the  eye 
which  questions  the  tale  but  not  the  faith  of  the 
teller ;  but  when  they  touched  upon  the  visible 
workings  of  the  Church  they  came  to  lively  issue. 
Saavedra  never  entered  upon  any  justification  of 
the  missions,  —  said,  "  Behold  ! "  and  considered 
the  argument  concluded.  It  was  a  manner  not 
without  weight  upon  the  generality :  so  many  In 
dians  clothed,  housed,  and  fed ;  such  prodigious 
labors ;  so  many  baptized,  instructed,  ripe  for  the 

121 


ISIDRO 

garners  of  Paradise.    Isidro  was  disposed  to  give 
the  fact  its  due.    Said  Zarzito  :  — 

"  But  why  do  they  lock  them  up  ?  Is  God 
glorified  because  there  is  a  roof  between  me  and 
the  sky  ?  To  the  citizens  of  Monterey  they  do 
not  so,  and  there  is  much  goes  on  there  that  is 
not  of  the  Church.  And  what  have  they  got  by 
serving  God?  Food  in  their  bellies?  Even  so. 
I  have  seen  wild  Indians  in  the  mountains.  In 
the  hills  there  is  not  always  food  enough,  but 
often  there  is  more  and  the  pleasure  of  feasting. 
And  look  you,  senor,  here  is  a  whipping-post,  so 
if  a  man  works  not  he  is  flogged ;  but  in  the 
forest  if  a  man  works  not  he  goes  empty,  and 
that  is  the  greater  pain.  They  serve  God,  say 
you,  for  their  souls'  salvation.  But  my  mother 
served  God  in  the  hills,  and  the  priest  who  came 
after  she  died,  —  we  would  have  had  him  before 
but  the  sickness  was  too  quick,  —  the  priest  said 
she  had  of  a  surety  seen  salvation.  And  again, 
what  is  this  talk  that  the  missions  will  be  taken 
away  from  the  Padres  ?  If  that  be  so  you  will 
see  what  you  will  see ;  for  now  they  are  as  the 
water  of  streams  which  are  dammed,  quiet  as  a 

122 


IN   WHICH  NOTHING  HAPPENS 

pond,  but  when  the  dam  is  taken  away  they  go 
roaring  all  abroad.  One  I  have  seen,  Mascado, 
bred  in  this  place,  him  whom  the  Padres  hunt; 
fifteen  years  he  lived  in  this  place,  and  is  now  in 
the  hills  more  wild  and  cunning  than  any  other. 
So  will  all  these  be." 

It  seemed  that  Isidro  was  likely  to  get  other 
views  of  the  policy  of  the  Franciscans  than  Saa- 
vedra  intended. 

In  Monterey,  also,  where  he  met  Delgado, 
and  felt  for  him  that  anticipatory  thrill  by  which 
nature  warns  men  that  they  are  about  to  be 
pitted  against  each  other,  he  heard  talk  of  an 
other  sort  that  set  his  wits  stirring.  Here  the 
speech  of  young  men  was  all  of  Liberty  and  the 
Republic.  Liberty  in  the  figure  of  a  female  finds 
easy  worship  among  a  people  who  count  a  woman 
chief  among  the  Holy  Family,  and  the  new  cult 
bred  plots  thicker  than  flies  in  August.  There 
were  clamors  against  the  Governor  because  he 
was  thought  to  favor  the  priestly  power,  counter 
clamors  that  he  favored  it  not  at  all ;  people  who 
contended  that  the  removal  of  the  missions  from 
the  cure  of  the  Franciscans  would  put  the  com- 

123 


ISIDRO 

munity  at  the  mercy  of  savage  hordes;  cross 
contentions  that  the  Padres  held  their  charges  in 
a  condition  more  ignoble  than  they  might  achieve 
for  themselves.  Copious  reasons  were  not  want 
ing  for  naming  the  Padres  both  saints  and  sin 
ners,  all  of  which  Escobar  heard.  He  had  a  way 
with  him  which  made  men  always  anxious  to  ex 
plain  themselves,  quite  sure  of  his  countenance 
once  they  had  delivered  the  facts.  First  and  last 
there  was  a  good  deal  of  light  thrown  on  the  sit 
uation  of  the  Missions  of  Alta  California ;  some 
time  later  Isidro  found  that  it  stood  him  in  good 
stead.  At  this  present  the  only  use  he  made  of 
it  was  to  try  the  case  over  again  with  Zarzito. 
Isidro  was  one  who,  in  order  to  get  the  pith  of 
any  subject,  needed  to  express  himself,  and  for 
full  expression  required  an  audience.  The  lad's 
part  in  it  was  chiefly  to  help  the  young  man  find 
out  his  own  thought. 

The  pair  had  often  much  the  same  sort  of 
companionship  together  that  Isidro  had  at  Las 
Plumas  with  his  dog.  Often,  as  he  sat  against 
the  wall  smoking  in  the  sun,  looking  out  over 
the  hyacinthine  slope  when  the  smell  of  blos- 

124 


IN  WHICH  NOTHING  HAPPENS 

soming  wild  vines  was  sweet  in  the  warm,  abun 
dant  spring,  the  dog  would  come  and  lay  his 
head  upon  his  knees,  and  Isidro  would  stroke 
the  silky  ears  and  sense  the  joy  of  life  deliciously, 
more  poignant  for  the  companionable  touch.  So 
he  got  a  double  portion  of  zest  in  his  new  sur 
roundings,  —  his  own  and  the  boy's ;  but  the 
Briar  was  not  to  be  stroked,  as  became  evident. 
Once,  walking  on  the  beach  when  a  calling  wind 
was  on  the  sea  and  a  tearing  tide  came  in,  for 
sheer  delight  of  its  wildness  Isidro  clapped  him 
on  the  shoulder,  and  the  shoulder  slipped  from 
under  his  hand  as  the  wave  under  foot. 

"  No  offense,  lad,"  laughed  Isidro. 

"  No  offense  taken,  senor,  but  I  like  not  to  be 
clapped." 

"  Now  by  that  token  I  know  you  for  a  true 
Indian  ;  I  am  like  to  forget  it  else.  You  are  as 
wary  of  touching  as  a  wolf." 

They  trod  with  joy  on  the  fringe  of  the  in 
coming  waves,  and  sniffed  the  wet,  bracing  wind. 

"  Oh,  to  be  gone  upon  it ! "  cried  Isidro. 
"South  and  south  into  Mexico.  Shah*  you  not 
miss  me,  lad,  when  I  am  gone? " 

125 


ISIDRO 

All  the  boy's  spirit  rushed  into  his  eyes. 

"  No/'  he  said. 

"  What  ?  "  cried  Escobar. 

El  Zarzo  looked  flushed  and  mutinous. 

"  No/'  he  said,  "  for  J  shall  be  upon  the  sea 
with  you  there." 

"  Why,  what  will  you  do?"  said  Escobar. 

"  What  will  you  do,  senor,  there  in  Mexico  ?  " 

"  I  will  serve  God,"  said  Isidro  ;  and  being  an 
honest  youth,  he  added,  "  I  will  also  see  the 
world." 

"I  also  serve  God  and  see  the  world,"  said 
El  Zarzo ;  but  the  words  were  bolder  than  his 
eyes,  —  "  serve  God  and  you,  senor."  He  had 
at  times  a  certain  quick  and  wistful  air  of  depre 
ciation,  very  engaging. 

"  Well  spoken  for  an  adventurous  youth," 
laughed  Isidro,  and  but  for  his  late  warning  would 
have  clapped  him  on  the  shoulder  again. 


THE  ARREST 

Padre  Saavedra  had  been  as  wise 
in  the  ways  of  sinners  as  of  saints 
he  would  never  have  sent  his  search 
party  groping  so  far  afield  for  the 
renegade  neophyte,  Mascado,  who,  having 
nothing  to  hope  for  from  the  clemency 
of  the  Padres,  had  not  exposed  himself 
at  San  Carlos  without  reason.  The  busi 
ness  that  led  him  to  brave  the  whipping-post 
would  hold  him  in  that  neighborhood  until  it 
should  be  accomplished.  His  appearance  in  any 
quarter  meant  mischief ;  since  nothing  had  hap 
pened  it  was  safe  to  conclude  him  still  within 
reach,  as,  in  fact,  he  was,  made  comfortable  by 
several  of  the  Padre's  flock.  Neither  had  Peter 
Lebecque,  who  had  a  hand  in  that  business, 
anticipated  so  much  hardihood.  As  much  as 
in  him  lay,  the  old  trapper  wished  good  to  the 
wild  Briar  that  had  grown  up  beside  his  door, 

127 


ISIDRO 

but  his  love  of  provoking  led  him  farther  than 
he  knew.  Mascado,  misled  by  the  old  French 
man's  ribaldry,  believed  that  Escobar  had  done 
dishonorably  what  he,  as  much  as  he  was  able, 
meant  to  do  openly,  and  with  credit,  as,  in 
deed,  the  temper  of  gallantry  at  that  time  gave 
him  warrant  for  believing.  He  was  ignorant  of 
Isidro's  ignorance,  and  Lebecque  thought  it  a 
point  of  humor  to  let  him  remain  so.  But  Le- 
becque  supposed  by  this  time  that  Zarzito  would 
be  under  the  protection  of  the  Father  President, 
and  in  such  case  as  to  put  an  end  to  the  Indian's 
coveting.  Also  he  thought  Mascado  very  much 
of  a  coward,  and  expected  no  such  good  joke  as 
that  he  would  really  go  up  to  Monterey  to  find 
where  the  truth  of  the  matter  lay.  The  young 
man's  passion,  though  he  sensed  the  fact  of  it, 
seemed  to  the  trapper  wholly  ridiculous.  But 
Mascado  was  minded  to  sift  the  affair,  and  this 
is  what  he  found  :  first,  the  body  of  a  slain  man 
lying  not  far  from  the  path  of  Escobar;  then 
this  fine  gentleman  with  blood  specks  on  his 
linen,  giving  himself  priestly  airs  at  San  Carlos, 
where  Zarzito  passed  for  a  servant  and  slept  at 

128 


THE   ARREST 

his  door.  Mascado  made  very  sure  of  these 
things;  he  went  into  the  church  and  saw  the 
great  eyes  of  El  Zarzo,  wistful  and  amazed,  watch 
ing  Escobar  while  he  prayed,  and  wished  for  no 
further  proof.  After  that  he  made  his  lair  in  the 
pitted  oak,  meditating  vengeance.  By  night  he 
sought  food  in  his  own  fashion,  and  by  day  he 
sat  among  the  dunes,  and  whetted  his  knife  and 
his  heart,  wishing  Isidro  injury,  but  not  able  to 
compass  it. 

Escobar  had  done  him  a  kindness,  you  will 
remember,  under  an  oak  in  a  certain  open  glade, 
but  he  had  also  done  him  a  wrong.  He  had  killed 
Juan  Ruiz  indubitably,  and  he  had  stolen  Zarzito. 

"  Eh,  he  would  have  a  Briar,  would  he  ?  Well, 
here  was  one  that  would  prick;"  he  stuck  his 
knife  furiously  into  the  tree.  His  rage  was  great, 
but  his  passion  overrode  it ;  but  still  —  Zarzito 

—  to  have  her  —  to  hold,  to  keep — rifled,  de 
spoiled,  —  but  still  to  have  her  !    Dimly  it  grew 
in  his  mind  that  when  he  had  become  a  little  less 
afraid  of  her,  when  use  had  dulled  a  little  the 
edge  of  his  desire,  he  might  take  it  out  of  her, 

—  might  repay  himself  in  her  pangs  for  this  keen 

129 


ISIDRO 

tooth  of  injury.  Perhaps  in  time  he  might  beat 
her,  but  now  he  knew  if  she  so  much  as  noticed 
him  it  sent  his  wits  all  abroad.  Body  of  her  he 
would  have  though  Escobar  had  her  soul,  —  and 
Escobar  had  unquestionably  saved  his  life;  so 
he  sat  and  fumed. 

Meanwhile,  Isidro  and  Zarzito  had  been  to 
Santa  Cruz  and  back,  Father  Saavedra  had  dis 
patched  his  search  party  on  the  renegade's  trail, 
—  for  that  purpose  Mascado  had  openly  left  a 
trail,  —  and  Don  Valentin  had  come  to  an  under 
standing  with  the  Comandante.  He  had  gone 
south  by  the  coasting  schooner,  Jesus  Maria,  at 
Castro's  cost,  to  find  Padre  Bonaventura  and 
bring  back  the  heir  of  the  Ramirez  ;  to  marry 
her  if  she  proved  marriageable.  Delgado  ad 
mitted  to  himself  that  the  condition  allowed  a 
good  deal  of  latitude.  Finally,  the  day  was  set 
for  the  departure  of  the  Father  President. 

About  this  time,  Ramon,  shepherd  to  Mariano 
the  Portuguese,  came  fumbling  up  from  Paster  la 
with  a  great  tale  for  the  alcalde  of  Monterey. 
Mascado,  threading  catlike  between  the  pine  boles 
behind  the  town,  came  upon  him  camped  over  a 

130 


THE   ARREST 

tiny  winking  fire  at  the  end  of  his  day's  trudge, 
and  gave  him  a  wayfarer's  hail.  They  two  had 
supped  by  the  same  fire  before  now.  Ramon,  who 
was  full  of  his  tale,  and,  barring  the  gift  of 
speech,  more  simple  than  his  own  dogs,  unbur 
dened  himself.  It  was  well  that  he  had  found 
stuff  to  practice  his  maunderings  upon,  otherwise 
the  alcalde  would  have  gotten  a  sorry  tangle. 
Under  Mascado's  guidance  he  got  it  fairly  into 
shape. 

It  seemed  that  while  he,  Ramon,  and  Nicolas 
kept  Mariano's  sheep  in  the  northern  end  of 
Pasteria,  sometimes  called  Angustora,  a  fortnight 
since,  there  had  come  riding  a  fine  caballero,  and 
that  thin  lad  of  Lebecque's,  him  with  the  married 
brows  and  pricking  tongue,  having  in  charge 
the  flock  and  the  dogs  of  Juan  Ruiz.  And  the 
caballero  —  yes,  an  Escobar ;  so  the  lad  named 
him  —  had  told  a  most  strange  story  of  finding 
the  sheep  of  Ruiz,  but  no  Ruiz,  at  the  ford  of 
Oak  Creek.  The  flock  was  whole,  but  the  dogs 
looked  to  have  been  at  each  other's  throats.  The 
Senor  Escobar  had  passed  on  toward  Monterey. 
"  And  after,"  said  Ramon,  "  we  went  with  the 

131 


ISIDRO 

sheep  to  look  for  Ruiz ;  it  was  slow  going,  for 
the  trail  was  cold."  Here  Mascado  might  have 
helped  him,  but  he  chose  rather  to  hear  the  end. 
"  But  this  was  most  strange  ;  Senor  Escobar  told 
that  he  found  the  flock  at  Oak  Creek,  but  we 
found  Ruiz  at  the  Mesa  Buena  Vista  in  a  new 
dug  grave.  Yes,  we  uncovered  enough  to  see 
that  it  was  a  man ;  the  coyotes  had  been  at  it. 
And  look  you,  Mascado,  whatever  was  done  evilly 
was  done  at  that  place ;  so  thinks  Nicolas,  so 
think  I ;  for  Noe  here,"  —  he  touched  the  dog 
at  his  feet,  —  "  Noe,  when  we  came  towards  that 
place,  when  we  were  no  more  than  at  the  borders 
of  the  Mesa  Buena  Vista,  made  so  great  a  howl 
ing  that  the  hair  of  our  flesh  stood  up.  And 
Nicolas  thinks,  and  so  think  I,  that  whatever  was 
done  there  the  dogs  were  witness  of  it."  The 
man's  voice  fell  off  to  a  whisper;  he  edged  a 
little  away  from  Noe,  making  the  sign  of  the 
cross  surreptitiously.  "  And  when  we  came  to 
the  grave,  —  it  was  but  poorly  dug  with  a  knife, 
as  if  one  had  come  back  hastily  with  fear  upon 
him  to  cover  it  up,  —  when  we  came  to  that  place, 
I  say,  Noe  here  left  minding  the  flock,  and  went 

132 


THE  ARREST 

whining  in  his  throat,  so  that  we  fell  a-praying 
just  to  hear  it.  And  there  is  more.  When  we 
went  about  with  the  flock  to  bring  them  towards 
the  place  of  The  Reed,  at  the  edge  of  the  mesa 
we  came  upon  a  track  of  a  horseman  riding,  such 
a  track  as  might  have  been  made  by  the  cabal- 
lero  who  brought  us  the  sheep  at  Pasteria ;  and 
the  dogs,  when  they  had  found  it,  made  as  if  to 
be  pleased.  Eh,  what  make  you  of  that,  Mas- 
cado?" 

Mascado  made  murder  of  it,  and  smacked  the 
word  as  if  it  had  a  fine  savor.  Still  there  was 
more.  The  shepherds,  it  appeared,  had  taken 
thought  to  carry  their  news  to  Mariano,  but 
when  they  came  by  the  place  of  The  Reed  they 
found  the  door  of  the  house  open,  and  rabbits 
running  in  and  out.  Worse,  they  found  the  box 
at  the  bed's  head  broken  open  and  not  a  real  left 
in  it,  not  a  real.  Mascado  shrugged  away  a  sus 
picion  of  denial  that  lingered  in  the  other's 
voice ;  that  Mariano  had  been  robbed  was  very 
much  to  his  purpose,  —  by  whom,  not  so  much. 

"  To  the  alcalde  ! "  he  cried,  shaking  with 
an  evil  joy  ;  "  to  the  alcalde ;  the  caballero  shall 

133 


ISIDRO 

swing  for  it !  These  will  be  witnesses,  you  and 
Nicolas,  Peter  Lebecque  and  I." 

"And  the  boy,"  said  Ramon. 

Mascado  thought  not.  "  We  are  four  men," 
he  said.  "  What  do  we  want  of  the  boy  ?  " 

The  morning  of  the  day  that  was  to  see  the 
Father  President  started  on  his  journey  there 
was  high  mass  at  the  Mission  San  Carlos.  Within 
the  church  was  a  flare  of  color  like  a  trumpet 
burst.  Sheaves  of  poppies,  last  of  the  spring 
splendor,  burned  under  the  Stations  of  the  Cross ; 
el  Capella  de  los  Dolores  glowed  like  a  forge; 
wisps  of  incense  smoke  floated  before  the  high 
altar  like  fog  across  the  sun.  All  San  Carlos 
huddled  in  the  aisle.  The  candle  lights  of  the 
high  altar  glimmered  on  the  bare  bronze  skin  of 
the  worshipers.  The  eyes  of  most  burned  with  a 
sombre  fire.  Isidro  was  beginning  the  practice 
of  his  priestly  vocation  by  serving  at  mass. 
Saavedra  himself  officiated,  glowing,  like  the 
Host,  with  a  fervor  of  devotion.  It  passed  over 
the  kneeling  horde,  reached  the  acolyte  and 
wrapt  him  as  a  flame.  El  Zarzo  stood  in  the 

134 


THE  ARKEST 

bell  tower  with  the  ringers,  who  made  the  sign 
of  the  cross  with  the  ropes  as  they  rang  the 
chimes. 

There  went  a  little  flicker  of  curiosity  over 
the  congregation  toward  the  middle  of  the  In- 
troit,  when  the  alcalde  of  Monterey,  with  two 
officers  of  the  constabulary,  came  well  forward 
into  the  body  of  the  church  and  knelt  among 
the  neophytes.  Isidro  felt  their  presence  a  check 
upon  his  devotion  ;  the  Father  President  made  a 
motion  of  unease,  but  it  passed ;  he  was  too  full 
of  his  holy  office.  His  voice  streamed  upward 
in  a  ghostly  triumph,  wavered  into  tenderness, 
turned  upon  the  note  of  fatherliness  into  the 
deep  wrack  of  a  purely  human  concern,  rose 
again  through  faith,  and  carried  the  hearts  of 
his  people  to  the  barred  door  of  Heaven  itself. 

"  Lord  have  mercy  on  us  !  " 

"  Christ  have  mercy  on  us  !  " 

The  wail  of  the  people  beat  upon  it  in  an 
agony  of  entreatment;  almost  the  door  gave 
back.  The  naked  souls  of  his  cure,  accustomed 
to  the  self-hypnotism  of  their  own  wild  imme 
morial  chants,  missed  no  point  of  the  spiritual 

135 


ISIDRO 

exaltation.  The  people  bowed,  rose,  and  bowed 
again  at  the  Elevation  of  the  Host ;  the  chimes 
rang  in  the  tower.  The  smoke  of  incense  passed, 
the  murmur  of  devotion  fell  off  into  the  rustle 
of  departing,  the  people  came  blinking  out  into 
the  sun,  last  of  all  Isidro  and  Saavedra,  stripped 
of  their  vestments  and  spent  with  spiritual  pas 
sion.  The  alcalde,  lingering  by  the  great  oaken 
doors,  came  up  to  them ;  there  was  bowing 
and  a  display  of  manners.  But  the  alcalde  had 
a  taste  for  dramatics;  the  moment  was  propi 
tious.  He  waved  up  his  deputies  and  disposed 
them  on  either  side  of  the  young  man  with  a 
gesture. 

"Senor  Escobar,"  said  he,  "I  have  the  ex 
ceeding  regret  to  inform  you  that  you  are  ar 
rested  for  the  murder  of  Juan  Ruiz."  He  might 
have  managed  differently,  but,  in  fact,  the  alcalde 
was  a  little  big  man  and  a  stickler  for  the  Re 
public  ;  he  suspected  the  Padre  Presidente  of  an 
intention  to  cry  down  his  authority.  To  come 
into  the  Padre's  own  jurisdiction  and  carry  away 
his  acolyte  almost  from  the  steps  of  the  altar 
was  a  vindication  of  the  civil  right. 

136 


"GO   IN   PEACE,   MY   SON 


THE  ARREST 

The  blow  was  a  shrewd  one  ;  you  could  see 
horror  and  amazement  widening  in  the  faces  of 
the  bystanders  as  a  circle  widens  on  the  surface 
of  a  smitten  pool.  Isidro  was  simply  puzzled  and 
dumb.  Saavedra  rallied  first.  He  fetched  up  a 
tolerable  smile. 

"  A  mistake,  Senor  Alcalde,"  he  said,  "  most 
annoying  and  yet  almost  laughable,  but  wholly 
a  mistake.  Juan  Ruiz  is  not  dead."  And  then 
his  smile  slipped  from  him  and  left  his  mouth 
stretched  and  gray.  The  pallor  reached  his  eyes, 
his  tongue  curled  dryly  in  his  open  mouth,  for 
he  remembered  what  he  knew  of  Juan  Ruiz  and 
how  he  knew  it,  and  the  inviolable  seal  of  the 
confessional  was  over  it  all. 

"You  will  have  ample  space  to  prove  it, 
Padre,"  the  alcalde  was  saying ;  "  I  hope  it  may 
be  so.  There  is  also  a  charge  of  robbery." 

"  Senor  Alcalde,"  said  Saavedra,  "  there  is 
much  here  that  wants  explaining."  The  good 
Padre  must  be  forgiven  for  regarding  this  as  a 
new  onset  of  the  temporal  powers  against  the 
spiritual  business  of  the  Brothers  of  St.  Fran 
cis.  Almost  as  if  they  guessed  his  purpose  with 

137 


ISIDRO 

Escobar,  here  was  a  plot  to  snatch  him  away  out 
of  the  Padre's  power.  As  for  the  charge,  he 
believed  nothing  of  it ;  he  had  confessed  Isidro 
as  well  as  Juan  Ruiz,  and  rejoiced  to  find  him 
as  clean  as  a  maid. 

"  No  doubt  the  Senor  Escobar  will  be  happy 
to  explain  upon  all  proper  occasion,"  said  the 
alcalde.  "  In  the  mean  time  I  must  ask  him  to 
go  with  these  gentlemen." 

"  By  whom  is  the  charge  preferred  ?  "  asked 
Saavedra ;  his  wits  were  all  abroad  after  Juan 
Ruiz,  —  how  to  come  at  him,  how  to  shoulder 
the  crime  upon  him  and  remain  within  his 
priestly  prerogative. 

"By  his  companions,  Nicolas  and  Ramon, 
shepherds  to  Mariano,  who  have  found  the  body." 
The  alcalde  threw  out  his  hands.  "Forward, 
gentlemen."  The  deputies  took  Escobar  each  by 
an  elbow. 

"Fear  nothing,  my  son,"  said  Saavedra.  "I 
have  that  in  mind  which  shall  loose  all  bonds." 

"And  I,"  said  the  alcalde,  "have  a  duty  to 
perform ;  we  will  go  at  once,  if  you  please." 

"  I  go,"  said  the  Padre,  "  to  bring  that  which 
138 


THE  ARREST 

shall  clear  you.    Go  in  peace,  my  son,  and  may 
the  God  of  peace  go  with  you." 

Isidro  said  nothing  at  ah1.  Ten  minutes  later 
El  Zarzo  came  out  of  Marta's  hut  and  dogged 
them  unseen  to  Monterey. 


XI 


THE   QUEST   OF  JUAN  RUIZ 

N  the  orchard  closes  of  San  Carlos 
Isidro  had  been  smitten  with  a  sense 
of  the  sufficiency  of  the  Mission 
Fathers  as  men.  Now  he  was  to  have 
a  revelation  of  the  men  as  priests.  The 
Brothers  of  St.  Francis,  who  admitted  no 
material  hindrance,  who  dug,  hewed,  and 
planted,  unbound  all  considerations  of 
want  and  toil,  were  themselves  in  bond 
age.  Men  who  made  themselves  masters  of  a  raw 
land  and  unkempt  thousands  of  its  people  were 
overmastered  by  their  own  vows.  If  they  loosed 
others,  themselves  they  could  not  loose. 

Vicente  Saavedra  was  a  man  of  parts,  great  in 
dignities,  honored  in  place,  but  before  all  a  priest 
in  orders  and  a  servant  of  God.  His  great  work  as 
Father  President  of  Missions  was  not  set  before 
his  greater  service  in  the  cure  of  souls.  Within 
his  province  he  could  plot  to  use  the  Escobar 

140 


THE   QUEST   OF  JUAN   RUIZ 

connection  to  the  advantage  of  the  missions,  and 
be  commended  for  the  contrivance  by  the  measure 
of  its  success ;  but  he  could  not,  to  further  that 
design,  abrogate  his  position  as  spiritual  father 
to  a  filthy  shepherd  with  a  stain  of  murder  on 
his  soul. 

Except  by  the  greatness  of  his  determination, 
in  the  present  trouble  he  was  no  greater  than 
the  meanest  of  his  priests.  He  had  the  whole 
tale  of  suspicion  from  the  shepherd  Ramon,  the 
whole  business  of  Noe  and  Reina  Maria  from 
Escobar,  and  the  confession  of  Juan  Ruiz  to 
make  all  straight.  As  for  the  robbery,  he  took 
no  account  of  it,  not  being  able  to  lay  it  to 
either  party.  What  he  knew  to  be  truth  was  that 
Mariano,  not  Ruiz,  lay  out  in  the  unblessed  grave 
on  the  Mesa  Buena  Vista,  and  Ruiz,  not  Isidro, 
was  the  murderer,  but  knew  it  by  such  means  as 
made  his  surety  impotent.  Not  for  any  of  the 
considerations  entering  here  might  the  seal  of  the 
confessional  be  broken.  What  he  must  do  was  to 
find  Ruiz,  and  by  the  sword  of  the  Spirit  bring 
him  to  open  confession  ;  and  now  that  prompting 
of  the  Spirit  that  had  secured  from  the  penitent 

141 


ISIDRO 

the  right  to  seek  him  out  in  the  interest  of  one 
unjustly  accused  in  his  stead,  assumed  in  the 
Padre's  devout  mind  the  proportions  of  Divine 
Intervention.  Saavedra  might  not  declare  Isidro's 
innocence,  but  Juan  Ruiz  was  pledged  to  it  could 
he  be  found.  Forthwith  the  good  father  set  about 
it.  He  visited  Isidro  in  the  calabozo  at  Monterey 
and  comforted  him.  "  God/'  he  said,  "  permits 
his  people  to  be  vexed  for  no  light  purpose.  Do 
you,  therefore,  my  son,  set  yourself  to  discover 
the  meaning  of  God  behind  this  visitation  of 
humiliation,  and  so  nourish  yourself  in  the  wis 
dom  of  the  Spirit.  Meanwhile,  I  go  to  bring  that 
which  will  serve  you  this  turn."  So  having  made 
the  best  disposition  that  he  might  of  present 
affairs,  Saavedra  set  off  with  an  Indian  tracker, 
and  very  light  of  baggage,  upon  the  trail  of 
Juan  Ruiz. 

It  was,  after  all,  though  tedious,  an  affair  of 
no  great  magnitude  to  follow  and  find  the 
vanished  shepherd  of  Mariano.  There  were  not 
at  that  time  above  two  thousand  souls  in  Alta 
California  not  of  the  native  races,  —  genie  de 
razon  they  were  called,  and  of  these  was  Juan 

142 


THE   QUEST   OF  JUAN   RUIZ 

Ruiz.  His  mother  was  a  Mexican ;  his  father 
might  have  been  Mariano  as  well  as  any  other. 
He  was  well  known  to  hunters  and  trappers  and 
the  riffraff  of  population  that  floats  into  new 
lands  ;  within  a  fortnight  he  had  been  heard  of  at 
Santa  Cruz  hearing  mass  at  the  Church  of  the 
Holy  Cross. 

This  business  of  the  mass  had  stripped  him  of 
all  his  poor  earnings,  and  left  him  bare  to  the 
purpose  that  lay  all  this  while  at  the  back  of 
his  mind  like  a  stone  in  a  pool,  —  not  revealed 
because  of  the  troubling  of  the  waters.  Rid  of 
the  witnesses  and  the  fear  of  dead  men  walking 
on  his  trail,  the  thoughts  of  Ruiz  began  to  turn 
toward  the  strong  box  at  the  head  of  Mariano's 
bed  in  the  hut  at  the  place  called  The  Reed.  It 
was  not  for  that  he  had  killed  Mariano,  but  the 
Portuguese  being  dead,  and  Ruiz  impoverished 
for  the  good  of  his  soul,  it  was  fitting  that 
Mariano  should  pay.  By  now  the  sweat  of  fear 
began  to  leave  him,  and  Ruiz  recovered  the  low 
cunning  which  was  the  habit  of  his  mind.  So, 
on  the  day  that  Isidro  and  El  Zarzo  rode  into 
Santa  Cruz,  Ruiz  went  out,  telling  no  man,  with 

143 


ISIDRO 

no  baggage  but  his  shepherd's  staff  and  a  parcel 
of  bread  and  meat,  bound  for  the  place  of  The 
Reed. 

He  went  south  all  day  by  piney  wood  and  open 
slope,  meeting  no  one,  walked  on  into  the  night 
as  long  as  the  moon  lasted,  and  slept  under  an 
oak.  He  supped  next  night  at  an  Indian  ran- 
cheria,  where  they  shared  with  him  what  fare  they 
had,  and  asked  no  questions.  The  third  day 
brought  him  early  to  the  place  of  The  Reed,  hav 
ing  made  good  time ;  for  ever  as  he  trudged 
there  grew  in  him  the  lust  of  gold,  —  the  touch 
and  sight  of  it,  the  clink  of  bright  pieces  fall 
ing  together.  He  ate  very  little,  feeding  on  the 
pleasures  he  would  buy  with  Mariano's  coin,  the 
bustle  and  change,  fine  clothes,  the  lusting,  the 
feasting,  the  drink  —  ah,  well,  not  so  much  of 
that,  perhaps ;  the  Padre  had  forbidden  it ;  but 
there  must  be  money  enough  in  that  strong  box 
to  make  peace  with  God  in  charities  and  devo 
tions  for  such  small  transgressions  without  cur 
tailing  them.  Oh,  the  golden  coins,  the  golden 
days !  Then  from  glowing  hot  he  grew  cold  to 
think  of  his  treasure  —  his !  It  had  come  to 

144 


THE   QUEST   OP  JUAN   RUIZ 

that  with  him  now,  —  lying  there  in  the  ten- 
antless  hut  for  any  wandering  thief  to  take. 
Who  knew  if  Mariano  had  made  fast  the  door, 
seeing,  when  he  went  out  of  it  last,  he  had  no 
notion  of  being  so  long  away  ?  Suppose  Nicolas 
and  Ramon  had  been  there  before  him,  scurvy 
rogues  both.  So  he  hurried  his  going,  ready  to 
do  killing  again  for  the  sake  of  the  slain  man's 
treasure,  until  he  came  to  the  place  of  The 
Reed,  where  he  was  brought  up  again  by  the 
fear  of  Mariano. 

The  hut  looked  low  and  menacing  in  the  even 
ing  light,  shut  and  barred,  weathered  and  soiled 
and  mean.  The  pool,  reflecting  all  the  light 
waning  from  the  concave  heaven,  glimmered 
palely  at  him  like  an  eye.  He  heard  the  reeds 
whispering  above  it  all  night  long.  Ruiz  had  not 
dared  to  come  into  the  hut  in  the  dark,  but  lay 
out  near  it,  watching,  watching,  lest  any  come 
out  of  it  to  surprise  him  where  he  lay  in  long 
pauses  of  strained  wakefulness  and  snatches 
of  haunted  sleep.  But  when  earth  and  sky  had 
cleared  to  a  cool  gray,  and  rabbits  began  to  stir 
in  the  long  grass,  he  was  up  and  had  broken  the 

145 


ISIDRO 

lock  with  a  stone.  He  found  the  box  at  the  bed's 
head,  as  he  had  known  it,  but  bound  with  iron, 
studded  with  nails,  double-locked,  a  weary  piece 
of  work.  He  tried  the  lock  with  his  stone,  tried 
the  wood  with  his  knife,  fumbling  and  hurried  ; 
bethought  himself  at  last  to  stumble  about  the 
dark  and  filthy  corners  of  the  room  for  a  mattock. 
The  clank  and  thud  of  it  upon  the  chest  rolled 
out  and  scared  the  rabbits  from  the  pool;  it 
jarred  Ruiz  to  a  fury  of  haste  and  fear.  So  be 
tween  pounding  and  running  to  the  door  to  see 
if  any  one  spied  upon  him,  he  wrestled  with  the 
chest  in  the  darkling  hut  until  the  gold  poured 
out  of  the  riven  wood,  and  he  knew  himself 
shepherd  no  longer,  but  his  own  man,  and  rich. 
He  was  quieter  after  that,  looked  about  him, 
found  a  bag  for  his  coin,  found  food,  and  re 
membering  that  Mariano  would  have  wine  —  he 
felt  the  want  of  it  by  now  —  looked  for  it  until 
he  found  it  in  a  kind  of  crypt  under  the  bed,  and 
carried  away  as  much  as  he  could  handle.  Then, 
being  laden  and  wearied,  he  turned  south  slowly  to 
fetch  up  with  the  place  where  he  had  left  Mari 
ano.  Father  Saavedra,  you  will  remember,  had 

146 


THE  QUEST   OF  JUAN   RUIZ 

bidden  him  bury  the  man,  and,  in  fact,  Ruiz 
would  hardly  have  any  peace  until  he  had  seen 
the  sod  upon  him. 

On  this  business,  chiefly  because  of  great  fa 
tigue,  he  was  three  days  more,  meeting  no  one 
but  Indians,  and  reached  the  Mesa  Buena  Vista 
shortly  after  Mascado  had  visited  it.  Here  he 
fell  into  a  new  terror,  greater  than  all,  for  he 
found  the  fresh-dug  grave  sunken  to  the  shape 
under  it.  Here  was  discovery  hot  upon  his 
track  ;  Mariano's  death  known,  himself,  no  doubt, 
guessed  as  the  murderer.  Sick,  shaken,  he  went 
back  to  where  he  had  covered  his  gold,  for  he 
would  not  come  into  the  presence  of  Mariano 
with  it,  and  drew  together  his  wit,  which  had 
gone  all  abroad  with  fancying  himself  cunning 
and  rich  and  altogether  a  fine  fellow.  But  be 
cause  his  wit  was  slow,  he  went  on  a  day  and  a 
half  in  his  old  course  before  he  was  able  to  shape 
a  new  one.  First,  his  plan  had  been  to  work 
down  to  Santa  Barbara  to  take  ship  there  and 
away ;  to  live  well,  and  to  take  pains  never  to 
confess  to  the  theft  of  the  money  until  after  he 
had  spent  it.  Now  he  thought  best  that  he  should 


ISIDRO 

turn  north,  skirt  the  vast,  dim  valley  of  the  San 
Joaquin,  cross  the  river,  and  so  make  the  Rus 
sian  colony  out  of  the  bounds  of  Alta  California. 
So  he  planned,  and,  returning  by  the  end  of  the 
Mesa  Buena  Vista,  was  in  time  to  see  Nicolas 
and  Ramon,  with  Noe  and  Reina  Maria,  digging 
up  what  remained  of  Mariano.  By  this  time  he 
was  clean  daft  with  terror,  and  lay  out  in  the 
scrub  for  a  day,  drinking  Mariano's  wine.  He 
took  to  the  trail  again  while  the  drink  was  still 
in  him,  and  so  had  a  fall  in  a  stony  place,  wrench 
ing  his  foot.  Then  he  began  to  want  food,  being 
afraid  now  even  of  Indians.  In  a  day  or  so  the 
need  sobered  him  even  of  the  drunkenness  of 
fear;  the  habit  of  his  shepherd  life  began  to 
assert  itself.  He  began  to  study  the  land,  to  lay 
the  shortest  course,  to  find  roots  and  fruits,  con 
triving  that  he  should  fall  in  with  the  bands  of 
renegade  Indians  who,  under  Urbano,  laired  like 
beasts  in  the  Tulares.  But  Urbano  at  that  time 
had  other  affairs  in  hand.  Ruiz  kept  to  the  bor 
der  of  the  hill  country ;  eastward  lay  the  lineless 
valley,  full  of  a  brooding  mist,  formless  and  blue  ; 
dark  and  low  on  the  horizon  lay  the  Tulares,  and 

148 


THE   QUEST   OF  JUAN  RUIZ 

the  river  in  the  midst  of  them  maundering  down 
to  the  bay. 

Meantime,  Father  Saavedra,  with  Saco  the 
tracker  questing  like  a  hound,  followed  the 
shepherd's  trail.  Learning  at  what  time  he  had 
left  Santa  Cruz,  and  guessing  his  errand  in  part, 
they  had  turned  directly  toward  the  Mesa  Buena 
Vista,  since  it  seemed  likely  Ruiz  had  not  heard 
that  any  one  had  been  before  him  with  the 
burial.  They  pushed  the  way  very  shrewdly, 
and  before  long  had  trace  of  him.  Among  the 
Indians  whom  Ruiz  met  was  a  woman  to  whom 
he  had  given  a  gold  piece,  thinking  himself  a 
man  of  means  and  able  to  requite  favors  hand 
somely.  The  woman  made  a  hole  in  the  coin  and 
strung  it  about  her  neck,  having,  in  fact,  no 
other  use  for  it.  This  Saco  spied,  questioned, 
and  reported.  So  the  robbery  was  accounted  for, 
and  Father  Saavedra  went  with  his  head  sunken 
on  his  breast  for  the  space  of  several  hours.  He 
could  not  escape  the  conclusion  that  Ruiz  must 
have  gone  fresh  from  the  confessional  and  the 
sacrament  to  this  new  transgression .  Approaching 
Buena  Vista,  Saco  found  the  place  where  Ruiz 

149 


ISIDRO 

had  hidden  his  treasure  while  he  went  to  look 
his  last  on  Mariano,  and  found  the  newer  trail 
going  from  it ;  later  they  found  an  empty  bottle 
where  he  had  cast  it  from  him,  and  a  coin  in  the 
grass  where  the  shepherd  had  dropped  it  in  his 
drunken  walk.  Finally,  they  struck  into  his  very 
path  and  the  print  of  his  limping  foot. 

Riding  out  from  the  Mission  the  Father  Pre 
sident  had  sat  his  horse  cheerfully,  resting  the 
issue  of  the  affair,  as  his  habit  was,  on  God.  He 
had  in  him  that  spirit  of  delighted  service  which 
informed  the  labors  of  Junipero  Serra,  craving 
whatever  circumstance  of  labor  or  sorrow  that 
brought  him  into  touch  with  the  Divine  Will. 
Come  what  might  of  this  business  of  Juan  Ruiz, 
Padre  Vicente  had  no  doubts ;  he  was  still  able 
to  interrogate  every  anguish,  What  lesson  hast 
Thou  ?  A  little  as  a  lover  rides  into  the  garden 
of  his  mistress,  expecting  sight  or  reminder  of 
her  at  every  turn,  so  rode  the  Padre  upon  his 
errand  to  surprise  the  purposes  of  God.  Thus  at 
first,  but  the  long  journey  wearied  him.  The 
evidence  of  the  shepherd's  fresh  crime,  following 
closely  on  the  sacrament,  gave  him  heart-sickness. 

,150 


THE   QUEST   OF  JUAN  KUIZ 

The  lust  of  man-hunting,  which  glowed  in  Saco 
as  he  pricked  forward  on  the  freshening  trail, 
oppressed  his  soul.  Lastly,  he  began  to  be 
troubled  for  the  physical  distress  of  the  fugitive 
himself ;  the  dragging  foot,  the  rag  of  torn 
clothing  by  the  brook  where  he  had  bound  it 
up,  the  holes  where  he  had  dug  feverishly  for 
the  roots  of  wild  hyacinths,  the  wavering  of  the 
course  which  betokened  unease  of  mind,  gave 
the  good  father  concern.  In  the  beginning,  he 
had  ridden  this  quest  for  the  sake  of  justice  and 
Isidro ;  at  the  end,  he  pushed  it  hard  for  the  sake 
of  mercy  and  Juan  Ruiz. 


XII 


THE   PLACE   OF  WOLVES 

BETWEEN  the  hills  and  the  Tulares 
is  a  treeless  space,  rolling,  shrubby, 
—  herding-place  of  deer  what  time 
they  run  together.  Transversely 
across  it  frothy  winter  floods  gouge  out  fur 
rows,  sharp  and  deep  near  the  canon  mouths, 
running  out  shallowly  valleywards  at  the 
limit  of  waters.  Here  run  turbid  streams  in 
wet  weather,  two  or  three  months  of  the 
year ;  for  the  rest,  they  lie  void,  bone-dry 
water-scars,  and  wild  beasts  dig  their  lairs  in 
the  banks  of  them.  Hereabouts  is  the  Place 
of  Wolves,  El  Poso  de  los  Lobos.  Here  are 
stinking  holes  where  the  lean-flanked  mothers 
with  heavy  dugs  go  in  and  out  to  the  whim 
pering  cubs ;  here  are  foxes'  covers  and  stale 
old  lairs  of  the  dogs  of  the  wilderness,  sunken 
caves,  weathered  niches  all  a-litter  of  old  bones ; 
earthy  hollows  where  a  hunted  man  might  safely 

152 


THE  PLACE  OF  WOLVES 

lie.  It  was  a  place  known  to  trappers,  guides, 
wanderers  for  any  profit  of  the  hills  or  for  no 
profit  at  all,  and  to  Juan  Ruiz. 

The  reminder  of  the  lair  is  strong  in  a  stricken 
man,  —  to  draw  to  cover,  lie  close,  keep  dark; 
to  have  the  sense  and  nearness  of  the  earth. 
Juan  Ruiz,  knowing  the  place  of  old,  lame, 
a-hungered,  feverish,  hugging  his  gold,  croon 
ing  over  it  to  comfort  himself  for  his  pains, 
steered  his  course  for  the  broken  lairs  of  the 
Poso  de  los  Lobos.  In  his  mind  he  designed  to 
shelter  there  and  recover  from  the  sickness  of 
terror  and  fatigue,  but  the  shuddering  soul  of 
him  purposed  more  than  that.  Unawares,  it  drove 
him  with  the  last  instinct  of  the  burrowing  beast, 
the  while  he  thought  himself  following  a  clever 
plan.  A  man  who  commits  a  crime  without  first 
taking  his  own  measure  is  likely  to  find  himself  in 
such  a  case  as  this.  He  must  be  brute  enough  to 
have  it  lie  wholly  without  his  sensibilities,  or  his 
determination  must  be  greater  than  all  these ;  oth 
erwise  the  thin  wall  of  reason  cracks.  In  the  fifth 
night  of  his  flight  from  Mesa  Buena  Vista,  Ruiz 
slept  under  a  thicket  of  buckthorn  on  a  forward 

153 


ISIDRO 

sloping  hill.  The  night  was  soft,  dark,  warm, 
and  sweet ;  no  coyote  howled  nor  bird  awoke ; 
the  tormented  soul  departed  into  the  borderland 
between  death  and  sleep  and  found  an  interval 
of  rest.  About  the  mid-hour  he  started  up,  warned 
by  the  wolf  sense  of  pursuit.  It  seemed  such  a 
sense  watched  in  him  while  he  slept.  Often  keep 
ing  the  flock  of  Mariano  he  had  roused  at  night 
before  the  unease  of  the  dogs  made  him  aware 
of  danger ;  now  he  trusted  that  sense  as  he  had 
been  wont  to  do,  and,  in  fact,  the  warning  was 
true.  Father  Saavedra  and  Saco  camped  on  his 
trail  not  a  day  behind  him.  Ruiz  got  up  and 
shook  off  the  stiffness  of  his  limbs ;  huddling  as 
the  air  began  to  chill  toward  morning,  stooping 
as  the  weight  of  his  treasure  told  on  his  shaken 
frame,  dragging  his  swollen  foot,  he  worked  his 
way  down  the  hill  front.  He  followed  a  dry  wash 
as  long  as  it  served  him,  then  struck  across  a  clear 
space  of  knee-high,  shrubby  herbs  and  grass.  He 
had  no  light  but  star-shine  and  the  candle  at  the 
back  of  his  brain,  that  burned  brighter  as  his 
vital  force  waned  in  him.  So  he  forged  north 
ward,  and  the  day  widened  and  shut  him  in  like 

154 


THE  PLACE   OF  WOLVES 

the  hollow  of  a  bell.    Back  on  his  trail  followed  1 
Padro  Vicente,  pitiful  and  prayerful,  and  Saco,  >• 
the  hair  of  his  neck  pricking  like  a  dog's  as  the 
trail  freshened. 

By  mid-morning  Ruiz  was  out  on  the  plain  be 
yond  the  limit  of  small  waters.  Rain  had  fallen 
scantily  on  the  eastern  slopes  that  year,  and  few 
streams  ran  beyond  the  foothills.  So,  as  the  day 
advanced,  he  began  to  add  to  the  fever  of  his 
flight  the  fever  of  thirst,  the  more  severe  because 
of  his  oblivion  of  delirium.  It  would  come  over 
him  while  he  rested  in  the  short  shade  of  the 
scrub,  and  ease  him  of  his  pains  and  terrors  until 
the  brute  warning  of  pursuit  urged  him  forward. 
He  made  as  straight  a  course  as  the  land  and  his 
fuddled  wit  permitted  for  the  Poso  de  los  Lobos, 
to  hide  his  gold  and  himself.  Saco  and  Saavedra 
had  sighted  him,  a  moving  speck  in  the  haze, 
about  the  second  hour  of  afternoon,  and  though 
they  lost  him  again  in  the  rolling  land,  expected 
confidently  to  come  up  with  him  before  night. 

By  this  time  Ruiz  had  forgotten  about  the 
priest  and  Mariano.  He  was  hardly  conscious  of 
much  beside  the  bag  of  gold  which  he  huddled 

155 


ISIDRO 

in  his  bosom  ;  in  his  disorder  he  conceived  that 
some  one  followed  on  his  trail  for  the  sake  of  it. 
Therefore,  as  he  neared  the  Poso  de  los  Lobos 
he  began  to  go  very  cunningly,  trod  as  much  as 
possible  upon  the  stones  to  leave  no  trail,  and 
went  back  and  forth  upon  his  tracks.  Stooping 
from  the  top  of  the  bank,  he  fixed  upon  a  bob 
cat's  lair,  high  up  above  the  possible  reach  of 
waters.  Leaning  above  it  he  kissed  his  treasure, 
half  in  tears  to  put  it  from  him,  half  laughing 
with  the  pleasure  of  his  cunning,  made  a  long  arm, 
and  dropped  it  out  of  sight.  Then,  wallowing  in 
the  loose  soil  of  the  bank  to  leave  no  trace  of 
hands  or  feet,  he  contrived  to  push  down  a  quan 
tity  of  gravel  and  loose  stones  until  he  had 
blotted  out  the  mouth  of  the  lair.  That  was  the 
last  flicker  of  the  cunning  mind.  He  had  hidden 

c5 

Mariano's  money  from  those  walking  on  his  trail, 
and  hidden  it  so  securely  that  come  another  day 
he  would  not  be  able  to  find  it  himself. 

There  was  a  niche  in  the  north  bank  of  the 
wash  that  must  have  been  left  there  first  by  the 
falling  away  of  a  great  boulder  the  size  of  a  wine 
cask  ;  behind  it  the  earth  was  a  little  damp  from 

156 


THE   PLACE   OF   WOLVES 

some  blind  water  source  that  in  a  rainy  country 
might  have  been  a  spring,  and  the  coyotes  had 
scented  it  in  a  dry  season,  pawing  deeply  into  the 
bank.  Now  and  then  in  hot  weather  they  re 
turned,  drawn  by  the  water  smell  to  dig  for  it  and 
cool  their  hairy  flanks  in  the  cool  dampness.  The 
opening  had  thus  grown  larger  than  any  lair, 
and  smelled  of  beasts.  The  displaced  boulder  lay 
not  far  from  the  mouth  of  it,  and  loose  soil  from 
above  had  piled  about  it,  making  a  barrier  that 
screened  it  from  the  unaccustomed  eye.  Here 
Juan  Ruiz  hid  himself,  clean  gone  out  of  his  nat 
ural  mind,  lacking  food  and  drink,  but  glad  of 
the  darkness  and  the  cool  damp  of  the  clay,  to 
which  he  bared  his  aching  foot,  and  in  his  glad 
ness  of  relief  and  the  sense  of  the  solid  earth 
about  him,  babbled  foolishly  as  a  child.  Here, 
when  the  sun  was  not  quite  down,  Saco  found 
him  singing  in  a  feeble,  merry  voice  the  old  nurs 
ery  rhyme  which  begins  :  — 

Seiiora  Santa  Ana, 
Why  does  the  baby  cry  ? 

Saco,  starting  out  from  San  Carlos,  knew  no 
thing  whatever  of  the  Ruiz  affair  except  that  he 

157 


ISIDRO 

was  a  man  the  Padre  wished  to  find,  and  his  trail 
was  to  be  picked  up  somewhere  about  the  Mesa 
Buena  Vista.  There,  having  found  and  followed 
it  to  this  conclusion,  although  he  was  as  pleased 
with  his  skill  as  a  hound  that  has  brought  the  fox 
to  earth,  his  Indian  breeding  forbade  him  any  ex 
pression  of  it.  He  squatted  on  his  haunches  by 
the  lair,  rolled  a  cigarette,  and  appeared  to  dismiss 
the  whole  matter  from  his  mind.  He  looked  now 
for  Padre  Saavedra  to  take  up  the  turn,  and  the 
Padre  had  forgotten  for  the  moment  that  he  fol 
lowed  Ruiz  for  any  other  purpose  than  the  man's 
own  relief.  If  he  had  remembered  it  at  this  junc 
ture  it  must  have  been  a  sharp  jog  to  his  faith  to 
find  Ruiz  brought  to  a  pass  so  little  likely  to  serve 
his  purpose. 

The  Padres  had  always  the  means  by  them  for 
bodily  relief  as  well  as  for  spiritual  remedy.  They 
were  never  lacking  simples  nor  the  materials  for 
the  sacrament,  christening,  marriage,  and  burial. 
Saavedra  sent  the  Indian  up  the  wash  with  the 
horses  for  water,  and  himself  turned  nurse.  By 
the  light  of  a  brushwood  fire  and  a  few  hours  of 
the  moon  he  bound  up  the  shepherd's  foot  and 

158 


THE   PLACE   OF   WOLVES 

covered  him  from  the  night  chill  with  his  own 
blankets.  As  often  as  the  Padre  came  near  him 
to  handle  and  relieve  him,  Ruiz  remembered 
Mariano  and  the  tortures  of  his  soul ;  when  they 
let  him  lie,  his  mind  wandered  off  foolishly  on  the 
trail  of  the  nursery  song. 

Senora  Santa  Ana, 
Porque  llora  el  nino  ? 

he  sang  as  he  lay  stark  on  the  earth,  and  then,  as 
the  Padre  lifted  him,  "  Ha,  hell  litter,  you  will 
leave  me,  will  you  ?  Take  that !  and  that !  "  — 
and  then  failed  for  weakness,  and  feeling  the 
comfort  of  the  blankets  began  again  presently 
piping  and  thin  :  — 

For  una  manzana  ? 

"  Rest,  rest,  my  son,"  said  the  Padre  tenderly, 
and  the  raucous  voice  of  the  shepherd  answered 
him  with  curses  intolerably  obscene.  It  fell  off  in 
obscure  mutterings  that  clarified  after  an  interval 
to  the  gentle  air,  — 

Que  se  le  ha  perdido 

Venga  V.  a  me  casa 

Yo  le  dare*  dos, 

Una  par  el  nino  y  otro  para  vos. 

So   it  went    on,  mournful   and  sweet  in  the 
159 


ISIDKO 

shadows,  until  the  clink  of  horses'  feet  on  the 
boulders,  as  Saco  returned  with  the  water,  roused 
him  to  present  memories. 

"  Cursed  be  the  wood  of  which  it  is  made, 
thrice  cursed  the  iron  that  binds  it !  Will  it  never 
come  open  ?  "  cried  Ruiz,  rising  up  in  his  place. 
"  Faugh,  what  a  filthy  house  for  a  rich  man  to 
live  in  !  Ah,  the  pretty  pieces,  ah,  so  round,  so 
bright !  all  mine,  mine,  MINE  !  "  His  voice  rose 
to  a  scream,  the  Padre's  hand  was  on  his  breast 
pressing  him  back  upon  the  blankets. 

"  Drink,  my  son,"  said  Saavedra,  holding  water 
to  his  lips. 

"  Ay,  drink,  Mariano,"  said  Ruiz.  "  Good 
wine,  excellent  wine,  and  a  pretty  price,  eh  ? 
Another  bottle  ;  "  then  as  the  water  cooled  him 
he  was  minded  to  sing  again  :  — 

Seiiora  Santa  Ana 
Porque  llora  el  nino  ? 

"  In  nomine  Patris,  —  per  Christum  Domi- 
num,"  breathed  the  Padre  above  him. 

"  Beast  —  Devil's  spawn  !  "  gurgled  Ruiz  from 
the  Padre's  bed. 

So  it  wore  on  for  the  greater  part  of  the  night, 
160 


THE   PLACE   OF   WOLVES 

but  about  the  ebb  of  dark,  when  there  was  a 
smell  of  morning  in  the  air,  he  woke  out  of 
his  delirium  tolerably  sane.  The  presence  of 
the  Padre  seemed  not  to  surprise  him ;  he  was 
stricken  with  death,  and  knew  it  as  the  earth- 
born  know,  as  the  coyotes  that  dug  this  lair  might 
have  known  before  him. 

He  had  come  out  of  his  stupor  clear  of  the 
fear  of  men,  knowing  his  end  near ;  but  the 
sight  of  Saavedra  signing  the  cross  put  him  in 
a  greater  terror  of  hell  fire.  He  clutched  a  fold 
of  the  Padre's  gown  and  fell  to  whimpering,  but 
was  too  far  spent  for  tears.  This  was  the  Padre's 
hour ;  tenderly  and  by  all  priestly  contrivances, 
he  lifted  the  poor  soul  through  his  agony,  and 
for  the  ease  of  his  conscience,  to  the  point  of  open 
confession.  The  Padre  wrote  it  out  for  him  by 
the  flare  of  the  brushwood  fire  he  had  called  Saco 
out  of  deep  sleep  to  light,  and  held  it  carefully, 
for  the  fidging  hand  to  mark  with  a  cross  over 
the  name  he  had  written.  Saavedra  had  signed 
it  Juan  Ruiz.  The  dying  man  gave  back  the 
quill,  speaking  more  at  ease,  as  the  troubled  will 

after  open  confession. 

161 


ISIDRO 

"I'm  not  sure  that  it  is  right/'  he  said; 
"  Ruiz  is  not  my  name.  It  is  the  name  of  a  man 
my  mother  married  at  the  pueblo  San  Jose.  I 
am  not  sure  what  my  father's  name  might  have 
been  ;  my  mother  was  not  married  to  him.  She 
died  years  ago ;  she  was  Maria  Lopez." 

"What!"  cried  the  Padre,  "Was  she,  indeed, 
Maria  Lopez,  daughter  of  Manuel  Lopez  of  San 
Jose?  And  are  you  her  son  born  out  of  wed 
lock?  May  God  be  merciful  to  you  a  sinner! 
Your  father  was  Mariano  the  Portuguese." 

That  was  a  time  when  the  consideration  of  the 
pangs  of  hell  was  potent  to  drive  souls  to  salva 
tion,  and  men  were  keen  to  pronounce  judgment. 
What  deeper  pit  was  there  than  that  reserved  for 
the  parricide  ?  The  groan  which  was  forced  out 
of  the  Padre  at  the  sudden  revelation,  his  start 
ing  back,  the  horror  of  his  countenance,  smote 
upon  the  poor  shaking  soul  like  the  judgment 
of  God.  With  a  great  broken  cry  Ruiz  threw 
himself  upon  the  Padre's  breast,  clawed  him, 
clung  to  him,  wrestled  with  him  as  a  man  might 
on  the  edge  of  the  pit  to  win  back  out  of  it, 
with  hoarse  bestial  breathings,  a  wide  mouth  of 

162 


THE  PLACE  OF   WOLVES 

terror,  and  staring  eyes.  Saavedra,  wrenched 
free,  forced  him  back  upon  the  bed,  and  trem 
bling  laid  the  blessed  wafer  between  stretched 
lips  from  which  the  soul  shuddered  in  departing. 

They  buried  Juan  Ruiz  in  the  place  where 
he  lay,  in  a  beast's  lair,  after  the  Father  Presi 
dent  had  blessed  the  ground.  Saco  rolled  stones 
across  the  mouth  of  it  and  made  a  little  cross  of 
withes.  All  his  life  after  Saavedra  had  moments 
of  self -accusing,  in  that  he  supposed  he  might, 
by  the  better  control  of  his  countenance  in  that 
crisis,  have  given  the  poor  soul  a  larger  assur 
ance  of  the  mercy  of  God. 

They  spent  a  day  looking  for  the  gold  of  Ma 
riano,  but  got  nothing  for  their  pains ;  Juan 
Ruiz  had  not  been  very  clear  in  his  account  of 
how  he  had  hidden  it.  There,  no  doubt,  it  lies 
to  this  day,  high  up  in  the  bank  of  the  wash  in 
the  bobcat's  lair  in  the  Poso  de  los  Lobos. 

Then,  with  the  confession  under  his  belt,  the 
good  Father  President  of  Missions  set  back  by 
the  shortest  route  to  the  Presidio  of  Monterey. 
He  had  been  gone  just  a  week. 

163 


XIII 

DELFINA 

HERE  was  a  woman  in  Monterey  of 
a  mischievous  and  biting  humor, 
but  not  wanting  in  generous  im 
pulses,  curious  above  all,  a  great 
lover  of  gossip  and  affairs.  This  Delfina 
had  wit  and  traces  of  beauty,  and,  along 
with  great  formality  of  outward  behavior, 
considerable  reputation  for  impropriety. 
She  had  come  into  the  country  ten  years 
since  with  the  family  of  the,  at  that  time, 
governor  of  Alta  California,  as  a  sort  of  compan 
ion  or  upper  servant,  on  a  footing  of  friendly 
ii)timacy,  which  she  maintained,  by  report,  with 
the  governor  at  the  expense  of  the  governor's 
lady.  At  any  rate  she  had  found  it  convenient 
to  break  off  that  connection  and  establish  her 
self  in  a  little  house  just  beyond  the  plaza  in 
company  with  an  elderly  woman  who  was  called  by 
courtesy  Tia  Juana.  The  house  had  a  high  wall 

164 


DELFINA 

of  adobe  about  it,  and  a  heap  of  wild  vines  rid 
ing  the  rooftree  and  spreading  down  to  the  outer 
wall,  affording,  so  she  was  accustomed  to  say, 
great  sense  of  security  to  her  solitary  way  of  life. 
It  was  not  possible  in  so  small  a  community  as 
Monterey  quite  to  overlook  a  lady  of  such  con 
spicuous  claims  to  consideration  as  Delfina,  for 
that  she  possessed  them  there  was  no  one  heard 
to  deny ;  and,  indeed,  she  was  not  lacking  friends 
willing  to  affirm  that  she  was  most  infamously  put 
upon,  and  possessed  of  as  many  virtues  as  accom 
plishments.  She  was  the  repository  of  all  possible 
patterns  and  combinations  for  the  drawn-thread 
work  which  occupied  the  leisure  of  that  time ; 
she  was  a  competent  seamstress ;  invaluable  at 
weddings,  christenings,  and  bailes,  in  the  way 
of  decorations  and  confections,  and  an  industri 
ous  and  impartial  purveyor  of  news.  Among  the 
most  judicious  and  surely  the  most  disinterested 
of  her  supporters  was  Fray  Demetrio  Fages,  who 
visited  her  frequently  in  the  interest  of  her 
Christian  salvation,  as  he  was  heard  to  affirm ; 
and  was  made  the  vehicle  of  liberal  donations  to 
the  Church,  which  she  was  accustomed  to  bestow 

165 


ISIDRO 

out  of  an  ostensibly  slender  income.  Since  he 
was  so  often  at  her  house  it  is  to  be  supposed 
that  he  found  no  company  there  not  to  his  liking, 
and  no  behavior  not  suited  to  so  godly  a  church 
man  ;  but  even  upon  this  there  were  those  dis 
posed  to  wink  the  eye. 

In  one  way,  however,  the  friendliness  of  Fray 
Demetrio  gave  Delfina  better  countenance  among 
the  matrons  of  the  town,  as  it  gave  greater 
weight  to  any  news  of  hers  which  related  to  the 
affairs  of  the  Missions,  since  none  so  likely  to 
know  the  facts  as  the  Father  President's  secre 
tary,  and  none  more  apt  in  the  distribution  than 
the  secretary's  friend.  If  Delfina  had  been  kindly 
received  before,  judge  how  it  was  in  the  month 
which  brought  Valentin  Delgado  and  the  younger 
son  of  the  Escobars  to  the  Presidio  of  Monterey. 
Both  these  events,  in  the  bearing  they  had  upon 
the  Church,  gave  a  new  fillip  to  the  absorbing 
topic  of  the  imminent  secularization  of  the  Mis 
sions,  the  probable  distribution  of  the  great  wealth 
of  herds  and  silver  which  they  had,  and  the 
greater  wealth  with  which  report  credited  them, 
and  the  possible  effect  upon  the  settlements  of 

166 


DELFINA 

removing  from  the  authority  of  the  Padres  some 
thousands  of  Indians  who  required  very  little 
scratching  to  show  the  native  savage  under  the 
mission  gilding.  Then  there  was  the  old  story  of 
Ysabel  and  Jesus  Castro  revived  with  new  and 
fascinating  particulars,  for  there  were  several 
people  in  Monterey  who  held  a  remembrance  of 
the  beautiful  and  unhappy  woman.  Along  with 
this  was  the  arrival  of  two  pretty  gentlemen  of 
exceUent  manners  and  good  blood,  — one  from 
the  capital  in  search  of  a  wife  and  a  fortune, 
the  other  from  Las  Plumas,  ready  to  renounce 
all  these  in  favor  of  the  .priesthood.  You  will 
perceive  that  Delgado  had  let  some  hints  of  his 
purpose  be  known ;  and,  indeed,  so  obvious  a 
conclusion  as  marrying  the  heiress  when  he  had 
found  her  would  have  been  tacked  on  to  any  ac 
count  of  his  proceedings  whether  he  had  declared 
it  or  not.  And  to  crown  all  this,  when  gossip  was 
at  its  best,  came  the  arrest  of  Isidro  on  a  double 
charge  of  murder  and  robbery,  and  the  depar 
ture  of  the  Father  President  on  some  mysterious 
errand  of  justification  or  disproval. 

Delfina,  who  had  seen  Don  Valentin  and  en- 
167 


ISIDRO 

tertained  him  in  her  house  behind  the  wall,  had 
the  most  to  say  of  the  first  affair  ;  but  of  Isidro, 
who  had  not  cared,  or  had  been  too  much  under 
the  supervision  of  the  Father  President,  to  make 
her  acquaintance,  —  Delfina  herself  inclined  to 
the  latter  opinion,  —  she  knew  only  what  Fages 
could  tell  her,  and  that,  beyond  a  shrewd  guess 
or  two  and  some  malice,  was  very  little.  Both 
her  vanity  and  curiosity,  therefore,  were  set  upon 
the  trail  of  the  mystery  behind  the  bare  fact  of 
the  arrest.  She  began  to  cast  about  for  some 
plausible  ground  for  invention  or  explanation, 
and  this  led  her  in  the  course  of  a  week  to  the 
servant  of  Escobar,  who  was  still  in  Carmelo  in 
the  house  of  Marta.  From  Fages  Delfina  had 
learned,  almost  by  accident,  that  the  boy  had 
not  accompanied  Isidro  from  Las  Plumas,  but 
had  been  picked  up  by  the  way.  This  seemed  a 
very  pregnant  piece  of  news  ;  to  point  to  an  ac 
complice  or  at  least  an  accessory  after  the  fact. 
Delfina  set  herself  to  fall  in  with  the  lad  and 
have  it  out  of  him  by  cajolery  or  whatever  means. 
It  happened  that  her  instincts  led  her  soon  into 
the  proper  juxtaposition  for  that  very  business. 

168 


DELFINA 

Since  Isidro's  arrest  she  had  been  in  the  habit 
of  taking  her  evening  walk  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  calabozo,  as,  indeed,  how  could  any  lady  of 
sensibility  help  being  drawn  in  that  direction  by 
the  pitiful  case  of  this  handsome  youth  cast  into 
prison  on  so  heinous  a  charge,  which  must,  no 
doubt,  prove  unfounded,  or  at  least  justifiable. 
And  being  so  employed  she  observed,  on  more 
than  one  occasion,  the  lad  called  the  Briar  lurk 
ing  about  with  a  great  air  of  disconsolateness, 
and  the  assumption  of  having  no  particular  busi 
ness.  It  was  her  instant  conclusion  that  he 
walked  there  for  the  purpose  of  some  secret 
communication  with  his  master,  and  it  wanted 
but  the  right  moment  of  quiet  and  the  absence 
of  other  observers ;  and  Delfina  concluded  she 
might  bring  about  a  conjunction  which  would 
serve  her  ends. 

In  fact,  the  lad  had  no  such  purpose  as  the 
woman  credited  him  with,  having  reached  that 
point  where  he  would  have  sold  himself  to  the 
devil  without  parley  to  have  quieted  his  hunger 
for  a  sight  of  Escobar,  sound  of  him,  print  of 
his  foot  in  the  earth,  or  any  indubitable  sign  of 

169 


ISIDRO 

his  living  presence.  And  that  he  might  have 
had  if  he  had  known  enough  to  apply  through 
Padre  Salazar  to  the  proper  authorities.  As  the 
servant  of  Escobar  he  might  have  had  free  ac 
cess  to  his  person,  but  he  was  too  little  used  to 
the  ways  of  men  to  have  known  that,  and,  per 
haps,  too  shy  to  have  used  it  if  he  had  known ; 
so  he  hung  frequently  about  the  walls  that  in 
closed  Isidro,  fevered  with  desire,  but  maintain 
ing  a  tolerable  appearance  of  having  no  interest 
there.  This  was  that  wild  lad  called  the  Briar 
who  had  come  up  to  Monterey  with  Senor  Esco 
bar,  charged  with  a  packet  from  Peter  Lebecque, 
having  instructions  to  deliver  it  and  himself 
into  the  hands  of  the  Father  President.  He  had 
parted  from  the  trapper  with  little  compunction, 
for,  though  the  old  man  stood  in  the  place  of  a 
father  to  him,  he  showed  little  of  fatherliness, 
accepted  him  as  a  member  of  his  household,  nei 
ther  to  be  greatly  considered  nor  denied.  Since 
the  death  of  the  Indian  woman  Zarzito  had 
called  mother,  the  lad  had  known  loneliness  and 
the  desire  to  mix  with  his  own  kind  which  stirs 
in  the  blood  of  the  young,  and  had  ridden  this 

170 


DELFINA 

adventure  with  Escobar  by  instinct,  as  a  bird  of 
passage  attempts  its  initial  flight.  For  the  first 
time  he  had  tasted  companionship,  faring  forth 
in  the  royal  spring,  young  blood  timing  to  young 
blood,  and  the  world  all  singing  and  awake.  But 
the  lad  was  most  a  creature  of  the  wood.  He 
had,  one  might  say,  the  wit  and  the  will  to  be 
tame,  but  kept  the  native  caution  of  wild  things. 
Therefore,  had  no  other  reason  arisen,  he  would 
have  gone  slowly  about  the  business  of  resigning 
himself  to  the  disposal  of  the  grave  President  of 
Missions.  But  another  obstacle  had  arisen  :  love, 
forsooth.  The  love  of  young  lads  for  older, 
the  love  of  the  companionable  for  gay  compan 
ions,  love  of  the  dawn  soul  for  the  soul  of  morn 
ing,  —  love,  in  short,  —  but  of  this  you  shall 
presently  be  better  instructed.  It  was  no  great 
wonder  that  the  hill-grown  lad  should  love  Esco 
bar,  so  wise  and  merry  and  cool,  and  of  such 
adorable  and  exasperating  gentleness  that  it 
irked  him  to  see  thieves  whipped  and  wild  eagles 
get  their  food.  It  seemed  to  Zarzito  that  he 
could  devise  no  better  way  of  life  than  to  serve 
Escobar,  and  follow  him  even  into  the  cloister, 

171 


ISIDRO 

of  which  you  may  be  sure  he  had  no  very  clear 
idea.  But  in  the  mean  time  the  packet  troubled 
him,  for  Lebecque's  instructions  had  been  plain 
upon  the  point  that  it  should  be  turned  over  to 
Saavedra,  and  his  intimation  that  the  Padre  would 
thereupon  put  him  in  the  way  of  good  fortune. 
It  appeared  that  El  Zarzo  desired  no  better  for 
tune  than  following  Escobar.  But  the  real  point 
of  his  difficulty  was  this,  —  he  did  not  in  the 
least  know  what  the  packet  contained.  The  lad 
had  not  known  much  of  priests  or  men,  but  he 
had  learned  rapidly,  —  from  the  Indian  woman 
Marta,  from  walks  and  talks  with  Escobar,  from 
mere  seeing ;  he  had  sucked  up  information  as 
the  young  sage  of  the  mesa  sucks  up  rain,  filling 
out  and  erecting  visibly.  So  he  knew  there  was 
one  fact  hid  from  the  Father  President  which,  if 
it  became  known,  would  put  an  end  to  following 
his  heart's  desire.  The  question  was,  did  the 
packet  give  notice  of  it  ? 

On  a  day  when  Isidro  had  been  about  a  week 
in  prison,  the  day  before  the  Father  President 
returned  from  the  quest  of  Juan  Ruiz,  El  Zarzo 
sat  a  long  time  under  an  oak  and  considered  the 

172 


DELFINA 

matter,  turning  the  packet  over  and  over.  It  was 
long  and  thin,  wrapped  in  a  black  silk  kerchief, 
wound  about  many  times  with  thread,  and  sealed 
up  with  gum.  It  showed  no  sign  nor  superscrip 
tion, —  apparently  nothing  to  connect  it  with 
Peter  Lebecque's  lad  or  the  servant  of  Escobar. 
Zarzito  concluded  that  if  it  could  be  placed  in 
the  Father  President's  hands  without  his  agency 
he  would  be  quit  of  his  obligation  at  the  least 
possible  risk.  Accordingly,  in  an  un watched  mo 
ment  he  dropped  it  in  the  alms-box  at  the  door 
of  the  church.  It  was  part  of  his  newly  gained 
information  that  whatever  went  in  at  that  open 
ing  found  its  way  eventually  to  the  priests. 

It  was  close  upon  dark  when  El  Zarzo  came 
that  evening  with  the  light  foot  of  his  Indian 
training  around  the  corner  of  the  calabozo  of 
Monterey.  A  bank  of  fog-built  mountain  hid 
the  meeting  of  the  sea  and  sky ;  a  kind  of  white 
ness,  reflected  from  the  near-by  water  and  the 
level  beaches,  lightened  the  air.  Across  the  plaza 
came  the  thrum  of  guitars,  and  the  voice  of  sing 
ing  mixed  with  children's  laughter,  and  the  cheer 
ful  bark  of  dogs. 

173 


ISIDRO 

On  the  side  of  the  prison  away  from  the  town 
was  a  window  high  up  in  the  wall ;  between  the 
bars  fanned  out  the  pale  yellow  ray  of  a  candle. 
The  wall  was  all  of  adobe,  plastered  smoothly 
up,  and  whitewashed.  Below  the  window  two  or 
three  cracks,  which  could  be  widened  out  with  a 
toe  or  the  fingers,  afforded  slight  and  crumbling 
holds.  Within  the  wall  all  was  still ;  no  sound 
or  motion  from  the  prisoner  or  the  guard.  The 
candle  rayed  out  steadily  toward  the  sea  that 
broke  whisperingly  along  the  beaches.  El  Zarzo's 
heart  beat  loudly  in  his  bosom,  stirred  by  the 
nearness  of  the  well  beloved.  He  reached  up  the 
wall  for  a  finger  hold,  put  one  toe  in  a  crack  and 
raised  himself  a  foot  or  two  nearer,  clinging  and 
climbing  like  a  worm  on  an  orchard  wall.  Delfina 
at  that  moment  came  mincingly  around  the  cor 
ner  on  her  errand  of  curiosity,  and  caught  him 
there.  The  lady,  who  was  as  quick  in  execution 
as  in  design,  made  no  outcry  to  have  aroused  the 
guard,  but  went  and  plucked  him  swiftly  from 
behind,  and  dropped  her  arms  about  his  body  as 
he  came  tumbling  from  the  wall.  The  lad  was  but 
a  slender  armful  for  one  of  her  build,  and  though 

174 


DELFINA 

he  writhed  and  wrung  himself,  he  could  neither 
get  at  her  to  do  her  hurt  nor  to  set  himself  free. 

"  Be  still,"  said  the  lady ;  "  I  want  but  a  word 
with  you."  But  the  lad  struggled  the  more. 

"  Be  still,  you  brat,"  she  said  again  ;  "  do 
you  want  to  bring  the  guard  upon  us  ?  "  But 
though  El  Zarzo  had  his  own  reasons  for  not 
wishing  it,  he  did  not  or  would  not  understand, 
and  while  she  struggled  and  fretted  with  him 
Delfina  made  a  discovery. 

"  What,  what !  "  she  cried,  and  her  note  was 
changed  to  one  of  amazement  and  smothered 
laughter ;  "  so  the  rabbit  has  jumped  out  of  the 
bag  !  —  What,  what,  my  lady,"  she  said  again, 
continuing  her  investigations  with  chucklings  of 
mischievous  delight ;  "  and  he  a  priest !  And  you 
his  body  servant !  Fie,  oh  fie  !  "  Her  voice  qua 
vered  with  the  burden  of  offensive  mirth.  "  Be 
still,  you  little  "  —  But  the  word  will  not  bear 
repeating.  El  Zarzo  grew  sick  to  feel  her  hands 
fumbling  about  him,  and  limp  and  quiet  more  at 
the  insult  of  her  tones  than  at  any  word. 

Behind  them  they  heard  the  sudden  stir  of 
the  guard. 

175 


ISIDRO 

"  Come  away,"  cried  the  Briar,  panting  and 
shaking.  Delfina  wished  nothing  so  much  as  to 
get  to  the  bottom,  of  this  affair  uninterrupted. 
Holding  fast  by  the  lad's  shoulder  she  ran  her 
prisoner  down  the  open  road  toward  the  bay,  and 
out  where  their  running  left  a  wet  trail  on  the 
sand.  The  tide  was  low  and  quiet.  Few  lights 
showed  on  the  seaward  side  of  the  town.  No 
thing  moved  in  sight  but  the  shape  of  a  solitary 
horseman  on  the  road  above  the  beaches.  It 
seemed  a  safe  and  silent  hour  for  all  confidences. 

"  Confess  ;  you  are  a  woman,"  said  Delfina. 

"I  am  a  maid,"  said  the  other  in  a  dry 
whisper. 

"  Oh,  yes  now,  a  maid,"  said  the  older  woman, 
mischief  beginning  to  stir  in  her  ;  "  no  doubt  a 
maid,  and  he  a  priest." 

"  I  will  hear  nothing  evil  of  him,"  flashed  the 
Briar. 

"  Why,  to  be  sure,"  bubbled  Delfina ;  "  and 
he,  I  dare  say,  will  accredit  you  with  all  the  vir 
tues  of  Santa  Cecilia.  All  priests  are  alike.  I 
also  could  tell  you  "  —  But  it  was  plain  the  girl 
did  not  hear  ;  she  had  begun  to  twist  and  wring 

176 


DELFINA 

her  hands,  with  a  kind  of  breathy  moan,  as  one 
in  great  distress  and  unaccustomed  to  the  use  of 
tears. 

"  You  will  never  betray  me,  senora,"  she 
begged,  "  you  will  not  ?  " 

"  Why,  as  to  that,"  began  Delfina,  moved 
greatly  by  curiosity  and  a  little  by  the  girl's 
evident  distress,  "  that  remains  to  be  determined. 
Let  us  hear  your  story." 

But  the  girl  continued  to  wring  her  hands  and 
cry  brokenly  without  tears. 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  she  said,  "  yes,  I  will  tell 
you,"  but  made  no  beginning.  The  horseman 
on  the  upper  road  had  passed  on  behind  them ; 
they  did  not  see  him  wheel  his  horse  and  return 
upon  the  sand. 

"  Oh,  I  meant  no  harm,  senora,  and  no  harm 
must  come  to  Senor  Escobar  because  of  me,  — 
ah,  yes,  I  will  tell  you,"  began  the  girl  again, 
moving  her  lips  dryly.  Delfina  shook  her  to 
quiet  her  own  impatience  and  the  other's  quak 
ing  sobs.  At  once  there  came  a  hiss  and  hurt 
ling  through  the  air,  a  wind  of  whirling  flight, 
a  tang  of  tightening  cord.  The  girl  gave  a  gasp 

177 


ISIDRO 

and  staggered,  began  to  cry  out  chokingly,  threw 
up  her  hands,  shook  and  struggled  as  with  an 
invisible  wrestler,  and  at  the  same  time  began  to 
move  with  extraordinary  rapid  stumbling  toward 
the  horseman  who  had  appeared  opposite  them 
on  the  sand.  He  drew  toward  the  girl  as  she 
drew  to  him  and  showed  dimly  a  naked  Indian 
through  the  dusk. 

Delfina  saw  him  approach  the  girl,  lift  her  to 
the  horse  in  front  of  him,  and  choke  out  her  cries 
and  the  beating  of  her  hands  upon  his  breast. 
Delfina,  too  much  astounded  to  cry  out,  was  run 
ning  heavily  up  the  sand  toward  him,  but  only 
rapidly  enough  to  see  the  Indian  riding  at  a  gal 
lop  toward  the  mainland,  reeling  in  his  riata,  as 
he  rode,  about  the  body  of  the  girl,  who  seemed 
still  to  twist  and  struggle  in  his  grasp  without 
outcry.  A  very  little  such  pursuit  warned  the 
older  woman  of  its  futility ;  she  stood  at  last 
staring  and  panting  as  she  watched  the  man  and 
his  burden  ride  away  into  the  soft  dark. 


XIV 


LAS   CHIMINEAS 

IGHTS  of  early  summer  along  the 
coast  of  Monterey  are  damp  and 
heavy  with  sea-dew.  It  hangs  on 
the  blossom  tops  in  the  wild  pas 
tures,  and  drips  down  the  fine  brown  needles  of 
the  pines.  Swift  passage  among  the  close  thickets 
of  the  hillslopes  shakes  out  the  moisture  with  a 
sound  of  rain.  If  the  moon  rides  in  the  seaward 
sky  it  will  be  dim  and  ghostly  white  with  mist, 
or  wholly  quenched  in  a  floating  bank  of  fog. 
A  night  rider  through  the  wood  wakes  querulous 
jays  in  the  oaks  and  deer  from  the  deep  fern. 
He  must  pass  by  sea  marsh  and  spongy  meadow 
to  stony  ridges  and  thin,  dark  clumps  of  pine, 
and  in  an  earlier  time  of  scant  and  ill-kept  trails 
must  have  had  great  faith  in  his  horse  and  his 
luck.  So  rods  Mascado  on  a  line  that  led  directly 
inland  from  the  peninsula.  He  drove  hard  and 
wildly,  careless  of  the  trail  he  left ;  keen  whips 

179 


ISIDRO 

of  the  underbrush  slapped  against  his  bare  legs 
as  he  rode.  He  was  all  bent  on  holding  fast  what 
he  had  got,  and  making  the  shortest  going.  As 
he  rode  he  felt  what  the  woman  Delfina  had  felt, 
—  the  young  budding  breasts  crushed  against 
his  bosom,  and  thrilled  to  the  passion  of  the  pri 
mal  man,  double  joy  of  the  huntsman  and  lover. 
He  rode  east,  leaving  the  Mission  to  the  right, 
labored  through  a  stretch  of  rolling  dunes,  lifted 
his  horse  carefully  from  the  bog  of  back  sea 
water,  passed  the  wild  pastures,  and  struck  on 
to  rising  ground.  At  every  shift  of  the  rider 
the  girl  struggled  shrewdly,  but  neither  wept 
nor  cried  out.  Once  he  spoke  to  his  horse  and 
she  grew  instantly  quiet.  He  trembled  through 
all  his  naked  body  at  the  sudden  loosening  of 
the  tension  of  hers.  Had  she  recognized  his 
voice  ?  was  this  the  quiescence  of  submission  ? 
They  rode ;  he  felt  her  breast  heave  and  fill 
under  his  hand  ;  the  weight  of  her  body  was 
sweet  upon  his  arm.  The  sea  wind  blew  about 
his  face;  wet,  pungent-smelling  leaves  brushed 
against  his  horse's  sides.  He  had  expected  pro 
test,  had  been  led  on  and  advised  to  this  point 

180 


LAS   CHIMINEAS 

by  the  effort  of  his  spirit  to  match  with  hers. 
Now  the  cessation  of  struggle  daunted  him.  His 
passion  had  reached  that  state  where  it  was 
necessary  for  his  ease  to  know  how  she  stood 
toward  it.  Cautiously  he  loosened  the  blanket 
with  which  her  head  was  covered  and  met  the 
girl's  level,  unfluttered  gaze. 

"  I  wish  to  sit  up,"  she  said  ;  there  was  hardly 
a  shade  of  interest  in  her  tone.  Mechanically 
the  man  raised  her  until  she  rode  more  at  ease. 
"  Unbind  the  rope,  it  cuts  me,"  she  said  again, 
with  a  terrible  matter-of-factness  that  sent  his 
passion  receding  from  him  like  a  wave  from  a 
rock.  He  fumbled  at  the  rope  a  little,  and  got 
no  thanks  for  it.  The  girl  looked  about  her 
quietly  by  the  dim,  watery  moon.  ((  Where  do 
you  go?"  she  said  at  last,  but  not  at  all  as  if 
she  supposed  she  was  going  with  him. 

"  Far  enough  from  Monterey." 

"  But  where  ?  " 

"  Las  Chimineas." 

"  And  what  will  you  do  there  ?  " 

"  Keep  you."  There  was  a  sudden  tightening 
of  the  arm  about  her  slim  young  form  ;  it  met 

181 


ISIDRO 

with  no  answering  movement  of  repulsion  or 
complaisance.  Mascado  saw  he  had  still  to  deal 
with  Peter  Lebecque's  graceless  boy.  Many  a 
time  in  the  last  year  at  the  hut  of  the  Grapevine 
he  had  tried  to  betray  her  into  some  conscious 
ness  of  himself  as  a  lover  through  her  conscious 
ness  of  herself  as  a  maid,  and  had  been  beaten 
back  by  the  incorrigible  boyishness  of  her  be 
havior.  He  had  begun  by  allowing  the  child  to 
browbeat  and  revile  him,  and  afterwards  found 
himself  in  no  case  to  deal  with  the  woman,  being 
swamped  by  the  embarrassment  of  his  own  pas 
sion  and  Lebecque's  contemptuous  perception  of 
its  futility.  His  desire  throve  best  in  absence, 
and  suffered  a  check  in  the  moment  of  personal 
contact.  He  had  hours  of  doubting  whether  he 
should  ever  be  able  to  take  her,  not  being  able 
to  put  her  on  the  defensive,  and  he  was  savage 
enough  to  need  a  hint  of  fleeing  to  whet  the 
courage  of  pursuit.  Vaguely,  though  he  had  re 
sented  the  hand  of  Escobar  upon  her,  he  expected 
that  experience  to  have  made  a  short  cut  to  his 
desire,  for  he  had  believed  the  most  concerning 
that  relation  ;  Lebecque  had  seen  to  that  out  of 

182 


LAS   CHIMINEAS 

a  rascally  humor  to  pay  the  mestizo  for  his  pre 
sumption,  and,  believing  the  girl  gone  quite  out 
of  the  range  of  the  half-breed's  life,  had  not 
spared  innuendo.  And  Mascado  without  the  old 
Frenchman's  hint  would  have  come  to  the  same 
conclusion,  seeing  that  the  girl  passed  every 
where  as  a  lad  and  the  servant  of  Escobar,  slept 
at  his  door,  and  companioned  his  solitary  hours. 
Probably  no  other  conjunction  would  have  braved 
Mascado  for  the  capture  and  the  sally  at  dusk, 
for  he  had  a  servile  taint  of  his  Mission  upbring 
ing,  and  the  girl's  spirit  was  imperious.  But 
greatly  as  his  passion  had  exalted  her,  the  passion 
of  Escobar,  for  so  Mascado  understood  their  rela 
tion,  had  brought  her  down.  There  was  even  an 
appeal  to  his  savage  sense  in  bearing  off  what 
had  been  the  prize  of  another,  and  he  suffered  a 
check  in  her  unconsciousness  of  the  situation. 
She  sat  indifferently  under  the  pressure  of  his 
arm,  drew  even  breaths,  and  looked  about  her. 
Half  in  response  to  her  unconscious  carriage, 
Mascado  relaxed  his  hold. 

"  The  corporal  of  the  guard  looks  for  you  in 
yonder  hills,"  she  said  at  last. 

183 


ISIDRO 

"  He  will  look  far  and  long  without  finding 
me,"  said  Mascado. 

"  So  you  said  once  before,  I  remember,"  re 
marked  the  girl. 

Mascado  had  no  answer  to  that. 

"  At  Carmelo  they  showed  me  many  things," 
she  went  on  ;  "  among  other  things  the  whipping 
post  ;  "  she  laughed  low  and  amusedly. 

The  mestizo  felt  his  gorge  rise.  "  And  among 
other  things,"  he  said,  "  you  saw  also  the  prison, 
you  and  your  fine  gentleman.  He  will  see  a  rope, 
doubtless,  before  all  is  done,  with  his  killing  of 
silly  shepherds  and  stealing  of  sheep." 

"  That  is  a  lie,  Mascado,"  said  the  girl  simply, 
but  she  also  shivered.  "  It  is  cold,"  she  said ; 
"  put  the  blanket  about  me." 

Mascado  drew  it  clumsily  across  her  shoul 
ders.  They  were  traveling  slowly  now,  stoop 
ing  under  trees  and  picking  the  way  on  stony 
ground.  Once  they  forded  a  stream  where  the 
water  came  gurgling  to  the  horse's  thighs.  The 
girl  fidgeted  and  made  fretful  noises  of  fatigue. 
Presently  Mascado  felt  her  weight  sag  against 
his  arm ;  by  gentle  constraint  he  forced  her  head 

184 


LAS   CHIMINEAS 

back  upon  his  shoulder  and  saw  that  she  slept. 
Mother  of  saints  !  here  was  a  girl  torn  from  one 
lover  by  another,  who  had  come  against  her  will 
from  a  delicate-mannered  gentleman  to  be  rav 
ished  by  a  renegade  mestizo  in  the  hills,  and  she 
slept,  —  by  God  and  His  saints,  she  slept ! 

The  moon  had  come  free  of  the  belt  of  fog 
that  hangs  about  sea  borders,  and  poured  clear 
and  light  on  the  shut  lids  and  drooping  mouth. 
Mascado  looked,  and,  though  he  had  no  words 
for  these  things  and  believed  otherwise,  suffered 
a  remote  perception  of  unassailable  virginity. 
He  passed  on,  wondering,  through  the  night. 
Two  hours  later  the  girl  was  roused  by  having 
a  fold  of  the  blanket  drawn  tightly  across  her 
mouth.  Mascado  bent  over  her  and  threatened 
with  his  eyes.  He  held  the  rein  with  the  hand 
that  constrained  her,  and  with  the  other  pressed 
the  point  of  his  knife  against  her  breast.  A  little 
way  ahead  she  saw  a  glow  ruddier  than  the  moon 
on  the  scrub.  They  had  nearly  stumbled  on  a 
camp  in  the  dark.  An  Indian  had  risen  up  at 
the  disturbance,  and  thrown  fresh  fuel  on  a 
dying  fire,  —  stood  listening  and  intent.  The 

185 


ISIDRO 

girl  could  see  by  the  dress  that  he  was  of  the 
Mission.  She  thought  for  a  moment  that  it 
might  be  the  corporal  and  his  men,  but  as  Mas 
cado,  guiding  chiefly  by  the  pressure  of  his 
knees,  backed  his  horse  away,  she  saw  by  the 
glow  the  face  of  the  Father  President,  as  he  lay 
sleeping,  turned  toward  Carmelo.  Slowly,  al 
most  noiselessly,  they  backed  away  and  around 
the  camp ;  she  could  see  the  Indian  still  watch 
ing  as  long  as  the  camp-fire  served  for  a  light. 
The  glimpse  of  Saavedra  set  her  thoughts  back 
toward  Monterey  and  Isidro  ;  she  slept  no  more 
that  night.  At  moon-set  Mascado  drew  up  under 
an  oak,  and  lifted  her  from  the  horse  under  the 
canopy  of  thick  dark. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  she  said  ;  "  it  is  not  Las  Chi- 
mineas  ?  " 

"  Here  we  rest,"  said  Mascado  ;  "  there  is  no 
further  going  in  the  dark."  Not  the  smallest 
star-beam  showed  through  the  close  tent  of  the 
oak ;  the  air  under  it  was  heavy  and  damp. 
Mascado  heaped  up  leaves  for  her,  and  spread 
over  them  the  folded  pad  of  coarse  woven  stuff 
taken  from  his  horse,  ah1  the  saddle  he  used.  She 

186 


LAS  CHIMINEAS 

sat  down,  and  he  sat  opposite  her,  holding  the 
stake  rope  of  his  horse.  So  they  sat  for  a  space 
of  two  hours ;  the  first  gray  dawning  showed 
them  watching  each  other  with  wide,  regardful 
eyes. 

Mascado  took  the  trail  again  as  soon  as  it  was 
light  enough  to  be  moving,  and  by  sunrise  had 
come  to  the  place  of  the  Chimneys.  Heading 
east  among  the  highest  peaks  of  the  Monterey 
coast  is  a  broad,  shallow  gorge,  having  in  its 
middle  a  pleasant  open  glade,  nearly  treeless, 
walled  in  by  a  slaty  formation  weathering  in 
huge  upright  pillars  and  nodules,  standing  singly 
or  in  files;  or  higher  up  tumbled  and  falling 
athwart  one  another,  affording  tunnels  and 
draughty  caves  of  shade.  Among  the  standing 
boulders  trickle  clear,  warmish  springs  to  water 
the  canon  floor.  Here,  from  time  to  time,  had 
harbored  more  than  one  distressed  clan,  the 
smoke  of  whose  hearth-fires  had  blackened  the 
bases  of  Las  Chimineas.  It  was  clear  morning 
when  Mascado  rode  into  the  canon  ;  wet  shadows 
lay  on  the  grass  between  bars  of  yellow  light. 
The  mid-meadow  was  succulently  green  and  white 

187 


ISIDRO 

with  flower  and  leaf  of  yerba  mansa.  Its  rosy 
pointed  buds  floated  in  the  tops  of  the  grass, 
dipped  and  bobbled  with  the  motion  of  it  in  a 
rippling  wind.  Cool  gray  shadow  spread  among 
the  caves,  and  small  water  chuckled  on  the  stones. 
It  was  such  a  place  and  weather  as  might  have 
served  for  a  bridal  morn.  Mascado  and  the  girl 
brought  no  bridal  mood  to  it.  Mascado  was  sure 
of  nothing  except  that  the  girl  seemed  to  have 
no  hint  of  his  purpose,  which  he  should  have  to 
convey  to  her,  and  had  no  notion  how  he  should 
begin.  It  seemed  that  he  still  held  Peter  Le- 
becque's  boy  within  the  circle  of  his  arm,  riding 
as  unconcernedly  as  she  had  ridden  in  a  bygone 
spring,  —  before  he  had  known  her  for  a  maid, 
—  and  presently  she  might  insist  upon  climbing 
up  on  his  shoulders,  as  she  had  once  done,  to 
look  at  a  hawk's  nest  in  a  blasted  pine.  And, 
in  fact,  the  girl  was  farther  from  him  in  spirit 
than  the  child  had  been,  panoplied  by  her  love 
for  Escobar,  —  though  she  did  not  call  it  by 
that  name,  —  wrapt  in  it  above  the  sense  of 
all  offense,  so  that  if  he  had  accomplished  his 
intent  upon  her  person  in  that  exalted  mood  he 

188 


LAS  CHIMINEAS 

could  have  left  no  stain  upon  her  mind.  He  had 
expected  protest  and  tears  ;  rather  counted  on  it 
to  spur  his  lagging  desire,  always  a  little  con 
founded  by  her  cool  assumption,  now  increased 
as  she  measured  him  by  Escobar,  whom  she 
judged  as  far  removed  from  him  as  the  order  of 
archangels  or  other  blessed  personages. 

She  had,  in  fact,  very  little  thought  to  spare 
for  Mascado  at  that  moment,  thinking  that  by 
now  Father  Saavedra  would  be  moving  toward 
Carmelo  with  the  promised  relief,  and  a  few 
hours  later,  say  by  the  time  the  shadow  had  gone 
up  from  the  floor  of  Las  Chimineas,  he  would 
be  at  Monterey.  Comforted  in  that,  though  wea 
ried  of  her  bonds  and  hard  riding,  she  was  able 
to  respond  a  little  to  the  morning  note  of  fresh 
ness  and  delight,  and  keep  the  ascendency  over 
Mascado  as  she  had  done  in  the  hut  of  the  Grape 
vine,  flooding  him  with  lover's  delight  at  the 
nimbleness  of  her  wit,  with  embarrassment  at 
her  gibes,  and  secret  fuming  that  he  made  no 
better  way  with  her. 

"Your  mother  at  Carmelo  prays  for  your 
soul,"  she  said,  as  he  went  about  to  prepare  a 

189 


ISIDRO 

meal  of  food  he  had  brought,  "  but  I  shall  tell 
her  to  pray  for  your  wits ;  you  have  burned  all 
the  cakes." 

And  again,  "  Mend  your  fire,  Mascado  ;  it 
smokes  like  a  lazy  mahala's."  But  when  he 
brought  a  fagot  on  his  shoulders  for  its  plenish 
ing,  "  Oh,  spare  your  back,  Mascado ;  you  will 
need  it  when  the  corporal  of  the  guard  comes  up 
with  you." 

"  Where  now,  Mascado  ?  "  she  said  with  the 
greatest  cheerfulness  when  the  meal  was  done, 
and  she  sat  loosely  bound  against  a  broken  tree. 

"  Here,"  said  Mascado  ;  "  it  is  safe  enough. 
Did  you  think  your  fine  gallant  would  be  looking 
for  you?" 

"  Why  should  he  ?  "  said  the  girl  coolly  ;  "  he 
has  better  things  to  do  than  looking  for  stray 
serving  lads." 

"  For  a  serving  lad,  yes,"  said  Mascado  with 
a  secret  and  insulting  air.  "  But  a  wife  "  — 

"  What  talk  is  this  ? "  said  she,  yawning  in 
his  face  ;  "  here  are  no  wives,  unless  you  have 
a  fancy  yourself  for  turning  mahala,  as  seems 
likely."  ' 

190 


m.   rSrfin-i* 


MEND   YOUR  FIRE,  MASCADO1 


LAS   CHIMINEAS 

"  But  there  will  be  one,"  he  said,  ignoring  the 
taunt  with  deep  insinuation. 

"  Big  talk,"  she  said ;  "  but  where  there  is 
no  bride  and  no  priest  how  will  there  be  a  wed 
ding?" 

"  I  have  never  heard  that  there  was  any  lack 
of  weddings  among  my  people  before  the  priests 
came,"  said  Mascado,  with  something  of  a  grin. 
"  As  for  a  bride  "  —  He  stopped  full,  and  let 
his  desire  burn  upon  her  from  his  eyes. 

"  Mascado,  you  are  a  fool,  and  Peter  Lebecque 
will  kill  you,"  said  the  girl. 

"  I  am  a  free  man.  What  will  Peter  Lebecque 
know  of  my  doings  ?  " 

"  All  that  I  can  tell  him,"  said  she. 

Mascado  let  his  gaze  wander  pointedly  along 
her  bonds. 

"  And  is  it  your  purpose  to  keep  me  tied  up 
forever  and  a  day  that  you  may  cook  and  clean 
for  me,  like  el  cojo  viejo  in  the  Mission,  scouring* 
pots  and  tending  a  tame  squirrel  in  a  cage  ?  For 
look  you,  do  you  so  much  as  slip  the  knots  of  my 
rope  and  turn  your  back,  and  you  have  seen  the 
last  of  me.  Do  you  remember  the  time  I  sent 

191 


ISIDRO 

you  and  Peter  Lebecque  seeking  and  crying1 
through  half  the  day  and  night  while  I  lay  in  a 
crypt  of  the  vines  almost  under  your  noses  ?  Eh, 
you  are  a  fool  for  your  pains,  Mascado." 

The  girl  had  him  there :  she  had  the  tricks  of 
an  Indian  for  making  her  way  in  the  hills ;  but 
she  was  no  Indian,  who,  once  the  subjection  of 
her  body  was  accomplished,  would  bring  her  mind  . 
into  accord,  sit  by  the  fire,  and  follow  at  the  back 
of  him  who  had  made  himself  her  man  and  the 
father  of  her  young.  Mascado's  notions  of  the 
married  state  partook  of  the  earth,  but,  such  as 
he  was,  he  wanted  no  prisoner,  but  a  wife.  There 
would  be  small  satisfaction  in  keeping  her  bound, 
and  no  safety  in  letting  her  go  free. 

"  Well,"  said  the  girl,  much  as  if  she  had  dis 
posed  of  the  whole  matter,  "  if  we  travel  not,  I 
sleep,  though  the  bed  is  none  of  the  softest." 
Stolidly,  to  hide  a  certain  shamefacedness,  he 
brought  her  an  armful  of  leaves  and  young 
boughs,  which  she  took  indifferently  enough  with 
her  face  turned  away.  Mascado  staked  his  horse 
in  the  wet  meadow,  and  set  snares  to  catch  quail 
and  rabbits  for  their  food.  His  Mission  training 

192 


LAS  CHIMINEAS 

had  lost  him  th'  familiar  use  of  the  bow,  and  he 
had  no  gun. 

The  girl  spent  most  of  the  day  upon  her  bed 
of  leaves,  her  head  hidden  in  her  arms  to  hide 
the  quivering  of  her  face.  She  felt  herself  in 
desperate  need  of  succor,  but  knew  not  from 
what  quarter  it  could  come.  Supposing  the  Fa 
ther  President  to  have  brought  Isidro  his  free 
dom,  would  he  be  of  a  mind  to  follow  his  errant 
lad  ?  and  who  but  the  woman  Delfina  should  tell 
him  that  El  Zarzo  had  gone  against  his  will  ?  and 
if  Delfina  told  him  that  would  she  not  tell  all  ? 
Ah,  never  all,  never  tell  him  all !  Better  Mascado 
should  have  his  will  of  her  at  present,  and  trust 
to  finding  some  better  shift  at  the  last.  For  she 
had  no  thought  of  marriage  with  Escobar,  —  was 
he  not  dedicated  to  God  and  His  Church  ?  All 
that  she  asked  for  herself  was  to  stand  at  his  door 
and  serve. 

Then  seeing  no  better  issue  of  her  affairs  she 
would  fall  a-trembling  with  nameless  dread,  and 
feeling  safe  for  that  day,  resolve  to  sleep,  the 
better  to  wake  and  watch  against  the  terrors  of 
the  night.  She  could  trust  to  holding  Mascado 

193 


ISIDRO 

in  check  for  a  time,  but  there  must  come  an  hour 
of  weakness,  of  fatigue,  a  moment  of  darkness 
and  surprise,  —  she  grew  sick  to  think  of  it.  And 
then  across  it  ah1  would  come  the  dream  of  inef- 
able  sweetness,  —  the  joyous  road  to  Monterey, 
the  strolls  on  the  beaches,  the  sea  music  and  the 
sea  air,  Escobar  walking  with  his  hand  upon  her 
shoulder,  the  vesper  hour  when,  kneeling  on  the 
bare  tile  flooring,  she  had  leave  and  liking  to 
watch  Escobar  through  the  changes  of  the  hour's 
devotion.  Little  looks,  little  ways,  a  trick  of 
tossing  back  his  hair,  a  gentle  irony  of  laughter, 
the  way  his  fine  hand  lay  on  the  bridle  rein,  — 
all  these  came  back  and  pierced  her  with  seduc 
tive  pain.  So  the  day  wore  on  warm  and  still 
into  the  afternoon. 


XV 

THE  RESCUE 

'AAVEDRA,  working  back  toward 
Carmelo  with  the  confession  of  Juan 
Ruiz  in  his  wallet,  had  lost  time  on 
the  last  day's  travel  by  reason  of 
over-full  creeks  and  flooding  fords  from  re 
cent  rains  on  the  seaward  slope  of  the  hills, 
and  camped  for  the  night  several  hours  out 
on  the  trail.  Saco,  who  knew  every  foot  of 
*]  that  region  as  a  man  knows  his  own  dwell 
ing,  would  have  pushed  on  through  the 
dark,  but  the  Padre  fancied  the  horses  too  much 
fagged,  and  managed  to  do  with  one  more  night 
away  from  his  own  bed.  He  was  up  and  stirring 
with  the  dove's  first  call  to  dawn,  and  got  into 
the  Mission  for  the  eight  o'clock  breakfast  with 
Padres  Gomez  and  Salazar.  The  table  was  set  in 
the  corridor  looking  toward  the  bay,  and  white 
drift  from  the  pear  trees  blew  in  on  the  morning 

air.    Leisurely,  as  concerned  their  several  juris- 

195 


ISIDRO 

dictions,  the  Brothers  of  St.  Francis  gave  him 
news  of  flock  and  folk,  —  of  a  death  in  Monte 
rey  and  a  christening  set  for  Wednesday  of  that 
week,  of  a  sail  sighted  off  the  Point  of  Pines, 
and  much  small  talk  of  the  garden  and  field. 

"And  yesterday,"  concluded  Padre  Salazar, 
sipping  his  chocolate  comfortably,  "  I  found  in 
the  alms-box  this  packet,  which,  as  it  bore  no 
name  or  superscription,  I  judged  best  left  to  your 
reverence's  disposal." 

Saavedra  took  the  thin,  oblong  packet  of  black 
silk  and  turned  it  over  absently.  "  Quite  right, 
brother,"  he  said,  "  quite  right.  I  cannot  at  this 
moment  conjecture  what  it  may  contain,  but  I 
will  make  the  earliest  occasion  to  examine  its  con 
tents,  when  I  have  this  affair  of  Escobar  off  my 
mind.  As  for  the  calves,  Brother  Pablo,  I  always 
say  you  know  more  of  that  matter  than  myself, 
and  I  will  be  pleased  if  you  will  continue  to  follow 
your  own  excellent  judgment.  I  will  look  at  the 
garden,  Ignacio,  on  my  return  from  Monterey, 
where  I  must  be  almost  immediately  in  the  inter 
est  of  this  young  man,  whose  affairs  I  trust  pre 
sently  to  put  in  better  shape." 

196 


THE   RESCUE 

It  was  a  piece  of  the  Father  President's  humility 
that  he  never  rode  on  any  affair  of  the  Mission 
when  he  could  walk,  and  in  that  he  patterned 
after  the  sainted  Serra  ;  but  this  morning  toward 
the  Presidio  of  Monterey  he  rode  at  a  smart  pace, 
with  Fages  cantering  at  his  back,  very  keen  to 
know,  but  not  daring  to  ask,  what  the  journey 
promised  Escobar.  It  had  occurred  to  him  that 
the  youth  was  too  forward  in  the  Father  Presi 
dent's  favor  for  his  —  Fray  Demetrio's  —  good. 
He  had  experienced  a  pious  glee  in  Isidro's  arrest, 
which  it  now  appeared  was  ill  timed.  The  padre 
was  too  cheerful  and  too  much  in  haste  not  to  be 
the  bearer  of  good  news. 

They  rode  at  once  to  the  alcalde,  whom  they 
found  at  breakfast,  very  well  disposed  toward  the 
Father  President  now  that  he  conceived  himself 
to  have  the  upper  hand,  and  toward  the  family 
of  Escobar,  which  he  esteemed  discreetly.  He  had 
had  his  fill  of  puffing  and  importance  in  the  week 
past,  and  answered  expansively  to  the  tactful 
courtesy  which  Saavedra,  in  any  affair  not  directly 
impugning  his  authority,  knew  well  how  to  dis 
play,  and  between  them  they  made  a  very  pleasant 

197 


ISIDRO 

occasion.  The  alcalde  was  charmed,  overjoyed  in 
fact,  to  learn  that  the  young  man,  of  whom,  ex 
cept  in  his  capacity  as  magistrate,  he  had  never 
a  suspicion,  should  have  come  so  handsomely  off. 
But  an  affair  of  the  state,  you  understand,  my 
dear  Padre,  —  it  could  not  be  dropped,  dismissed 
as  one  might  say  the  word.  There  were  formalities 
—  the  circumstance  had  been  noised  abroad  —  it 
was  due  to  himself  as  the  civil  authority,  —  a 
mere  servant  of  the  Republic,  my  dear  Padre,  — 
and  to  the  young  man,  to  give  the  fullest  publicity 
to  his  justification.  But  under  the  circumstances 
he  saw  no  reason  why  the  youth  —  truly  a  most 
admirable  young  man  —  should  not  go  at  large. 
He  would  see  to  it,  —  if  the  Padre  Presidente 
would  excuse  him  until  he  put  on  his  street-going 
clothes  ?  Yes,  and  in  the  mean  time  try  a  glass 
of  wine  which  had  come  around  the  Horn  ? 

The  alcalde  bustled  himself  into  the  house ;  the 
Padre  sat  in  the  gallery  and  sipped  his  wine,  and 
having  a  quarter  of  an  hour  of  undisposed  leisure, 
took  out  Padre  Ignacio's  packet  from  the  bosom 
of  his  gown,  and  broke  the  confining  threads. 
When  the  silk  kerchief  was  unwrapped  there  fell 

198 


THE  RESCUE 

out  of  it  two  folded  papers,  the  merest  glance  at 
which  gave  the  Padre  as  near  to  a  shock  as  was 
possible  to  his  well-ordered  mind.  They  were  the 
marriage  certificate  of  Jesus  and  Ysabel  Castro 
and  the  baptismal  certificate  of  Jacinta  Concep- 
cion,  their  child. 

Saavedra  stood  up  suddenly,  betraying  his 
.years  as  he  did  in  any  sudden  tide  of  excitement, 
and  called  to  Fray  Demetrio.  The  secretary  came 
running  and  agog,  hoping  'for  news.  "  Do  you, 
brother,"  said  Saavedra,  "  do  me  the  kindness 
to  remain  here  and  wait  upon  the  alcalde  —  this 
packet  —  I  have  business  with  the  Comandante. 
Neglect  nothing  which  may  be  for  the  Senor 
Escobar's  relief,  and  bid  him  wait  for  me  presently. 
I  will  be  with  Castro."  With  that  he  gathered 
up  the  papers  and  the  skirt  of  his  cassock,  and 
made  hastily  across  the  plaza,  at  that  hour  be 
ginning  to  fill  with  children  and  dogs  and  a 
detachment  of  soldiery  turned  out  to  drill.  The 
secretary  managed  the  release  of  Isidro  to  the 
alcalde's  satisfaction  and  his  own,  each  swelling 
with  authority  and  disposed  to  yield  to  the  other's 
pretensions  to  save  the  more  credit  for  his  own ; 

199 


ISIDRO 

they  were,  in  fact,  a  pair.  Within  another  quarter 
of  an  hour  Isidro  had  walked  out  into  the  morn 
ing,  and  shaken  off  both  those  worthies,  who 
seemed  disposed  to  bestow  upon  him  their  com 
pany.  He  walked  seaward,  and  watched  the  fisher 
boats  beat  in  across  the  bright,  blue  stillness 
of  the  bay.  He  wished  that  Saavedra  might  be 
speedily  done  with  this  business  of  the  Coman- 
dante's.  The  week  of  incarceration  made  the 
strange  town  and  strange  folk  seem  more  strange. 
He  was  hankering  for  the  company  of  his  horse, 
which  he  had  raised  from  a  colt,  and  the  lad  Zar- 
zito,  whom  he  had  known  quite  four  days  longer 
than  any  one  in  Monterey.  He  wondered  that  the 
boy  had  not  visited  him  in  prison ;  now  that  he 
thought  of  it,  it  might  have  been  arranged ;  but 
of  course  El  Zarzo  would  have  been  too  shy  to 
have  put  himself  forward,  —  shy  and,  no  doubt, 
lonely  in  his  turn.  Isidro  walked  down  to  the  sea 
border,  and  strolled  in  the  wet  track  of  the  re 
treating  tide,  which  was  the  place  Delfina  had 
elected  for  her  morning  walk. 

There  is  no  doubt  Delfina  had  a  nose  for  affairs  ; 
she  had  scented  something  going  forward  at  the 

200 


THE  EESCUE 

alcalde's,  and  had  come  out  with  her  shoe-laces 
untied,  and  a  mania  covering  the  inadequacies  of 
her  morning  toilet,  with  all  the  mincing  airs  of  a 
woman  wishing  to  inaugurate  an  acquaintance 
with  a  young  man  to  whom  she  has  not  been  prop 
erly  introduced.  You  can  guess  that  Isidro,  not 
withstanding  his  vocation,  made  no  great  difficulty 
at  this  juncture. 

"  It  is  the  Senor  Escobar,  is  it  not  ?  Yes,  — 
you  must  pardon  my  forwardness ;  it  is  impossible 
not  to  take  an  interest  in  one  so  estimably  regarded 
and  so  grossly  accused."  To  the  natural  insinua 
tion  of  manner  Delfina  added  the  play  of  her  fine 
eyes. 

"  There  is  no  pardon  —  rather  cause  for  grati 
tude,"  said  Isidro,  making  her  a  bow  and  a  com 
pliment  after  the  fashion  of  the  time.  "  You  add 
to  my  freedom  the  contemplation  of  beauty  and 
the  society  of  the  graciously  inclined."  He  fell 
into  a  certain  familiarity  of  exaggerated  deference 
with  remarkable  ease  for  a  man  who  was  to  be 
come  a  priest. 

"  But,  no  doubt,"  Delfina  watched  him  sidewise 
through  dropped  lids,  "  there  are  others  —  one 

201 


ISIDEO 

other  —  whom  the  Senor  Escobar  would  have 
wished  to  see." 

"  On  my  soul,  senora,  not  one." 

"  Oh,  the  men,  the  men  !  "  fluttered  Delfina ; 
"  oh,  the  faithless  ones  !  and  the  poor  girl  in  such 
straits,  too ! " 

"  If  it  pleases  you  to  jest,  senora  "  — 

Delfina  assumed  a  grave  and  monitory  air. 
"  It  is  no  jest  to  her,  I  '11  warrant,  senor.  Indeed, 
I  am  not  one  to  cry  down  my  own  sex ;  she  was 
most  faithful,  Don  Isidro,  visited  the  prison  every 
day  in  hopes  to  have  sight  of  you,  and  went  not 
away  except  by  force,  and  most  unwillingly,  — 
that  I  can  testify." 

"But  she,  senora,  she?"  cried  Isidro.  "What 
the  devil  does  the  woman  mean  ?  " 

"  Ah,  if  the  senor  wishes  to  preserve  the  incog 
nito,"  said  Delfina,  beginning  to  be  mischievous 
and  amused,  —  "but  with  me,  senor  ?  Well,  then, 
the  wild  Briar  that  keeps  its  roses  for  secret  pluck 
ing,  the  mestizo  lad,  —  or  is  she  Indian  ?  —  whom 
you  brought  out  of  the  hills,  —  El  Zarzo." 

"  El  Zarzo,  —  what  of  him  ?  " 

"She  is  gone,  senor,"  cried  Delfina,  with  a 
202 


THE  EESCUE 

sweeping  air,  —  "  seized,  stolen,  ravished,  mur 
dered  and  buried  by  now  for  all  I  know." 

"  But  how  ?    When  ?  "  cried  Isidro. 

66  Last  night,  by  an  Indian,  I  think ;  at  least 
he  had  no  clothing.  We  were  walking  here  on 
the  beach,  but  up  at  the  prison  I  had  just  dis 
covered  —  I  wished  to  know  —  she  was  about  to 
tell  me,  and  we  heard  the  guard  coming." 

"But  she,  she!"  cried  Isidro. 

Delfina  looked  at  him  in  a  momentary  blank- 
ness.  "  Does  the  man  mean  to  say  that  he  does 
not  know  ?  "  she  said,  and  then  dismissing  it  as 
wholly  absurd,  returned  to  her  gurgle  of  secret 
amusedness. 

"Oh,  the  men,  the  men!"  she  said.  "We 
were  walking  here,  Don  Isidro,  where  we  now 
stand,  and  it  was  just  the  edge  of  dark ;  suddenly 
there  came  a  hissing  through  the  air,  —  a  riata, 
I  think,  —  and  I  saw  a  rider  draw  up  to  her 
and  she  drew  to  him,  but  she  went  unwillingly 
enough,  —  and  in  a  moment  he  had  her  in  front 
of  him  and  was  away." 

"ElZarzo?" 

"  El  Zarzo,  so  called." 
203 


ISIDKO 

If  Isidro  appeared  cool  at  that  moment  it  was 
because  he  was  too  much  confounded.  Delfina 
was  too  circumstantial  to  be  greatly  doubted. 
She  put  him  through  all  the  steps  of  the  even 
ing's  performance ;  showed  him  the  evidence  of 
struggle,  the  galloping  hoof  prints  that  began 
where  the  shoe  prints  ended.  The  horse  she 
judged  to  be  a  pinto  pony,  the  man  an  Indian. 
Isidro  quested  forward  on  the  trail;  Delfina 
panted  beside  him. 

"  Arnaldo,"  she  said,  "  is  the  best  tracker  in 
Monterey." 

"  Send  him  to  me,"  said  Isidro  curtly.  He  had 
all  the  woman  could  give  and  wished  to  be  rid  of 
her.  Delfina  took  her  dismissal  cheerfully ;  she 
needed  the  rest  of  the  morning  to  spread  her 
news  abroad.  She  had  mixed  herself  with  what 
might  prove  a  most  interesting  scandal,  and 
stumbled  on  a  hint  of  a  really  untenable  situation. 
"  For  suppose,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  the  man 
really  did  not  know  !  "  and  she  dwelt  upon  that 
point  until  she  was  back  in  her  house  behind  the 
wall. 

Arnaldo  the  tracker,  a  short,  keen  man,  came 
204 


THE   RESCUE 

on  his  horse ;  in  those  days,  in  that  land,  a  man 
saddled  and  bridled  to  go  the  length  of  his  own 
dooryard.  Isidro  sent  a  boy  to  bring  his  own 
horse  from  the  pastures  of  Carmelo.  Arnaldo 
made  a  detour  of  half  an  hour  to  fetch  necessaries 
for  the  day ;  together  they  worked  on  over  the 
cold  trail.  There  seemed  a  promise  of  mischief 
in  the  rider's  haste,  —  in  the  broken  bushes, 
deep  hoof  scars,  flakes  of  black  loam  cast  up  by 
running. 

"  It  might  be  Mascado,"  said  the  tracker ;  "  he 
has  been  seen  lately  in  this  quarter.  He  has  a 
pinto  of  about  that  stride,  and  he  rides  like  the 
devil." 

"  On  the  devil's  errand,"  said  Isidro ;  but  the 
name,  which  he  remembered  only  as  the  name  of 
a  renegade  wanted  at  Carmelo,  carried  no  inform 
ation.  He  was  in  great  confusion  of  mind,  which 
found  no  relief  except  in  haste,  though  he  could 
scarcely  have  told  to  what  end  he  hurried  the 
tracker  on  the  open  trail.  He  would  say  that  the 
lad  El  Zarzo  was  in  peril.  But  why  ?  Why  ?  A 
lad  by  his  own  account  half  Indian  carried  off 
by  another.  But  if  he  believed  his  own  judgment 

205 


ISIDRO 

the  lad  was  no  Indian,  and  if  he  believed  the 
woman  Delfina,  no  lad.  Well,  then,  if  a  maid, 
peril  enough  and  reason  enough.  He  began  to 
recount  occasions  and  circumstances,  —  the  lad's 
personal  reticence,  a  certain  avoidance  of  innuendo 
and  embarrassing  incident  too  constant,  now  that 
he  recalled  it,  not  to  imply  an  intention ;  and,  on 
the  other  side,  a  certain  fearless  matter- of -factn ess, 
an  impertinence,  as  it  were,  directed  to  no  person 
but  to  events,  to  destiny,  endearing  in  a  boy,  but 
hardly  to  be  looked  for  in  a  girl.  But  the  lad 
was  a  good  lad,  —  well,  a  girl,  then,  if  it  must 
be,  —  so  no  doubt  a  good  girl.  Here  Delfina' s 
amused  insinuating  gurgle  recurred  to  him ;  it 
brought  a  hot  flush  and  certain  sickly  prickings 
of  shamefacedness. 

"  Sacred  Name  of  a  Name  ! "  What  was  the 
woman  doing  now  but  spreading  her  news  in 
Monterey,  —  excellent  gossip  about  an  Escobar 
who  set  out  to  be  a  priest.  In  his  hurry  he 
had  neglected  to  stop  her  mouth,  as  he  reflected 
he  might  have  done  with  a  compliment  and 
silver. 

Isidro  was,  first  of  all,  a  clean  and  honorable 
206 


THE   RESCUE 

youth.  If  he  regarded  the  priesthood  as  an  op 
portunity  rather  than  a  renunciation,  he  was  not 
single  in  his  time,  and  though  he  purposed  a  dis 
creet  use  of  its  prerogatives,  he  meant  sincerely 
to  keep  within  its  restrictions.  He  had  respect  to 
its  orders,  and  as  a  man  and  priest  he  wished  to 
stand  well  with  the  Father  President,  and  he  had 
all  the  high  and  formal  breeding  which  runs  with 
pure  Castilian  blood :  the  finikin  hospitality  and 
that  exaggerated  punctiliousness  toward  women 
which  often  consists  with  no  very  high  estimate 
of  the  possibility  of  feminine  virtue.  If  Delfina 
said  truth,  —  and,  though  he  rejected  it,  he  found 
his  mind  working  around  toward  conviction  as 
fast  as  the  tracker  worked  over  the  trail,  —  if  it 
were  true  that  the  boy  was  no  boy,  then  he  had 
set  a  pretty  snare  for  his  reputation  to  fall  into. 
Peace  he  might  make  with  Saavedra  through  the 
confessional,  but  his  father,  the  old  Don,  would  be 
furious  that  he  had  so  far  forgotten  the  manners 
of  an  Escobar  as  to  take  a  mistress,  in  the  guise 
of  a  servant,  under  the  Father  President's  roof, 
and  having  so  conducted  his  journey  to  Monterey 
as  to  have  himself  accused  of  murder  and  sus- 

207 


ISIDRO 

pected  of  theft,  had  no  sooner  come  free  of  that 
taint  than  he  was  off  hot-foot  after  the  girl  and 
her  Indian  lover.  That  was  the  construction  that 
would  be  put  upon  his  behavior,  and  Isidro  owned 
that  he  would  probably  have  believed  it  in  the 
case  of  any  other.  As  for  the  girl,  she  was  quite 
ruined  in  reputation,  and  any  explanation  of  his 
would  add  a  touch  of  ridicule  to  reproach.  If 
these  considerations  had  occurred  to  him  earlier 
it  is  probable  Isidro  would  have  waited  to  take 
counsel  with  Saavedra  before  committing  himself 
to  the  trail;  but  by  the  woman's  account  there 
was  the  lad,  whom  he  loved  for  his  endearing 
boyishness  and  clean,  companionable  talk,  ahead 
of  him  on  that  road  at  the  expense  of  who  knew 
what  indignity;  and  though  the  fact  of  El 
Zarzo's  being  a  maid  had  not  possessed  his  con 
sciousness,  it  stirred  in  him  an  apprehension  of 
unnamable  disaster.  As  often  as  he  thought  of 
her  it  was  of  the  nimble  and  teachable  lad  who 
had  come  through  the  hills  with  him  in  golden 
weather,  or  of  the  pleasant  companion  he  had 
promised  himself  on  a  pilgrimage  through  Alta 
California,  —  but  a  maid  —  Oh,  a  pest  on  it ! 

208 


THE  KESCUE 

Escobar  felt  himself  aggrieved  that  his  servant 
had  not  stayed  a  boy. 

The  sun  beat  upon  them,  and  the  trail  stretched 
out  mile  by  mile.  Arnaldo  hung  above  it  from 
his  saddle,  finding  it  too  plain  for  dismounting. 
By  noon  they  arrived  where  Mascado  had  stum 
bled  on  Saavedra's  camp,  and  Arnaldo  chuckled 
to  see  how  nearly  the  mestizo's  haste  had  been 
his  undoing. 

"  If  it  were  Mascado  he  would  sooner  see  the 
devil  than  his  reverence,"  said  the  tracker. 

After  that  it  seemed  the  rider  had  taken  a 
craftier  way  among  the  hills,  concealing  his  trail 
more,  and  pursuit  lagged  through  a  hot,  breath 
less  afternoon.  Later  they  came  to  where  Mas 
cado  had  kept  the  dark  watch  under  the  oak. 
Here  Isidro  looked  for  some  signs  of  a  struggle, 
not  assured  but  relieved  to  find  none.  Here  El 
Zarzo  had  sat,  and  here  Mascado  ;  here  the  horse 
cropped  at  the  end  of  the  rope.  Isidro  by  this 
time  fumed  with  impatience  and  saddle  weariness. 
He  rode  after  a  week's  inaction,  and  his  breakfast 
had  been  prison  fare. 

"  Caramba  !  but  I  could  eat,"  he  said. 
209 


ISIDRO 

Arnaldo  swung  the  food  bag  forward  on  the 
saddle. 

"  Eat/'  he  said ;  "  the  trail  freshens." 

"And  where/'  cried  Isidro,  "  do  you  think  we 
shall  come  up  with  him  ?  " 

"  Dios  sabe,  but  it  leads  toward  Las  Chimineas. 
That  is  the  refuge  of  many  a  hunted  one.  We 
should  be  there  in  an  hour/'  said  the  tracker. 

"  We  must  find  him  before  night."  Isidro  bore 
forward  in  his  saddle  with  eagerness ;  as  if  some 
impalpable  thread  of  intelligence  ran  between 
him  and  the  girl,  his  sense  of  urgency  lengthened 
with  the  shadows.  They  had  made  good  time, 
almost  as  good  as  Mascado,  saving  the  dark  hours. 
It  appeared  the  mestizo  had  ridden  without  fear 
of  pursuit,  and  ridden,  moreover,  in  the  night, 
while  they  had  the  day  for  following.  It  was 
four  o'clock  when  Arnaldo  pointed  out  from  a 
knoll  the  tall,  single  stones  of  Las  Chimineas. 

"  From  here  we  go  cautiously,"  he  said. 

Meanwhile  Saavedra  had  finished  his  talk  with 
the  Comandante.  They  had  taken  a  long  time 
to  it,  beating  through  all  the  possibilities  that  the 

210 


THE   RESCUE 

appearance  of  the  two  certificates  at  this  junc 
ture  implied.  Finding  no  thoroughfare,  they 
came  back  to  suck  such  comfort  as  they  could 
from  the  mere  fact  of  the  papers  spread  out  on 
the  Comandante's  desk.  Castro  was  trembling, 
expectant,  and  confused ;  the  Padre  hopeful 
and  confounded.  The  question  was,  from  what 
source  had  the  packet  come?  By  all  accounts  no 
strangers  or  suspicious  persons  had  come  or  gone 
about  the  Mission  or  Monterey  that  week  past. 
Then  could  it  have  been  dropped  by  any  one 
resident  in  the  capital  or  at  Carmelo  ?  At  this 
suggestion,  that  one  who  had  knowledge  of 
Ysabel's  child  might  walk  within  daily  sight  of 
him,  Castro  shook  as  with  an  ague.  Padre  Vi 
cente  sighed;  he  thought  to  have  known  the 
hearts  of  his  people.  Padres  Pablo  and  Ignacio 
had  been  warned  if  the  matter  came  up  in  con 
fession  to  use  all  permissible  means  to  bring  it  to 
light.  As  yet  from  this  source  nothing  had  trans 
pired.  It  had  not  been  possible  to  keep  the  affair 
out  of  common  talk,  perhaps  not  advisable.  It 
appeared  the  flood  of  gossip  had  floated  this 
packet  out  of  the  backwater  of  an  unconscience- 

211 


ISIDRO 

able  mind,  —  gossip,  and  not  the  searching  sword 
of  the  Church.  Therefore  the  good  Padre  sighed ; 
therefore  the  Commandante  fell  sick.  The  word 
of  each  ran  with  power  in  their  several  provinces, 
but  they  could  not  compel  a  favorable  issue  of 
their  own  affairs.  But  why  had  the  packet  come 
to  light  and  not  the  heiress  ?  why  the  evidence 
and  not  the  claimant  ?  and  why  this  concealment 
of  the  source?  who  held  the  information  that 
would  connect  the  papers  with  Ysabel's  daughter? 
Ah,  who,  who  ?  Was  this  flotsam  all  that  was  to 
come  up  out  of  the  depth  ?  Was  it  fear  that  kept 
the  informant  in  the  background,  or  was  it  sim 
ply  that  the  child  was  not  ?  Here  Saavedra  came 
to  the  surface  with  a  practical  suggestion,  —  a 
paper  pinned  to  the  church  door  offering  a  re 
ward  for  knowledge  of  Castro's  heir.  The  pride 
of  the  Castros  demurred.  Well,  then,  for  infor 
mation  concerning  the  packet  found  in  the  alms- 
box  on  such  a  date  ?  This  was  better,  and  was 
so  agreed.  Then,  for  sheer  unwillingness  to  leave 
the  conference  with  so  little  accomplished,  they 
fell  to  talking  of  other  things.  Of  this  affair  of 
Escobar,  which  the  Padre  wished  put  in  the  best 

212 


THE   RESCUE 

countenance ;  of  the  report,  founded  on  nods  and 
winks  and  suspicions,  that  Indians  on  the  eastern 
border  along  the  San  Joaquin  and  the  Tulares, 
under  Urbano,  fomented  disturbances.  The  Pa 
dres  had  never  pushed  their  labors  very  far  from 
the  coast.  Inland  the  unregenerate  lived  in  native 
savagery,  and  gathering  to  themselves  malcon 
tents  and  deserters  from  among  the  neophytes, 
became  a  menace  to  the  peaceful  establishments 
of  the  Mission.  From  Solano  and  San  Jose  came 
news  of  cattle  carried  off,  and  mutterings,  and 
restlessness. 

Father  Saavedra  was  as  loath  to  report  these 
matters  as  to  believe  them,  but  felt  something 
due  to  the  Comandante.  Urbano  was  rumored 
to  be  massing  his  followers  in  the  wooded  regions 
to  the  east. 

"  Saw  you  any  such  intimations  on  your  jour 
ney,  Padre  ?  "  asked  Castro. 

"  None,"  answered  Saavedra.  "  Now  I  think 
of  it  I  saw  not  a  dozen  Indians  this  week  past, 
nor  came  upon  more  than  one  camp  which  was 
not  at  least  three  days  cold.  It  is  surprising,  I 
think,  considering  the  report." 

213 


ISIDRO 

"  Not  surprising,  Padre,  but  ominous,"  replied 
the  Comandante,  "  considering  what  we  know 
of  their  habits.  At  this  season  they  should  be 
spread  abroad  by  clans  and  families.  That  you  saw 
none  is  proof  positive  that  they  are  gathering  to 
gether  in  some  other  place  and  for  some  purpose." 

"  I  trust  not  of  mischief,"  said  Saavedra. 

"I  hope  not,  but  I  do  not  trust  where  an 
Indian  is  concerned,"  said  the  Comandante, 
smiling  a  little.  "  But  the  detachment  which  was 
sent  out  for  your  fellow  Mascado  should  be  in 
any  hour;  they  were  provisioned  only  for  ten 
days,  and  they  may  be  able  to  tell  somewhat.  In 
the  mean  time  I  advise,  Padre,  that  you  let  none 
of  the  neophytes  pass  between  the  Missions  on 
any  errands  whatever."  The  Father  President 
acquiesced.  He  was  not  the  man  for  affrays ; 
besides,  had  Urbano  descended  upon  San  Carlos, 
he  would  have  met  him  in  the  fashion  of  the 
martyred  Luis  Jayme,  saying,  "  Love  God,  my 
children,"  and  as  likely  have  met  the  same  end. 
By  the  time  he  had  finished  with  the  Coman 
dante  and  come  out  into  the  plaza  again  Isidro 
had  been  gone  an  hour. 

214 


XVI 


ISIDRO  COMES  TO  A  CONCLUSION 

HE  place  from  which  Isidro  and  the 
tracker  looked  on  Las  Chimineas 
was  a  thinly  wooded  hill,  its  coast- 
ward  slope  in  the  spaces  between 
the  pine  boles  well  grown  with  stiff-stemmed 
manzanita  and  lilac  now  waning  in  its 
bloom.  It  lay  directly  opposite  the  head 
of  the  gorge,  and  the  track  ran  around  it, 
and  over  a  low  barrier  running  transversely 
of  the  rift  that  turned  it  sharply  to  the 
east.  Beyond  the  barrier,  which  was  clothed  with 
wide  low  oaks,  the  gray  chimneys  began  to  rise, 
clustered  thickly  together.  They  parted  in  files, 
leaving  the  meadow  space  clear,  and  met  in  a 
jumble  at  the  head  of  the  canon.  The  hill  on 
which  the  two  men  stood  butted  into  the  left 
wall  of  the  canon,  and  made  easy  passage  to  a 
point  above  the  crowd  of  chimneys.  The  whole 
trend  of  the  canon  and  encompassing  hills  was 

215 


ISIDRO 

south  of  southeast.  The  wood  marched  up  to 
the  crest  of  the  west  wall,  leapt  over,  and  began 
again  midway  of  the  opposite  slope,  which  was 
higher,  went  on  in  an  orderly  and  constant  growth 
far  east  and  south.  On  the  down  throw  of  the 
bare  west  wall  where  the  chimneys  piled  high 
and  disjointed,  Arnaldo  judged  the  renegade  must 
be  if  he  were  to  be  found  at  all. 

Las  Chimineas  lay  gray  and  lonely  in  the 
brooding  light,  squirrels  chattered  and  leapt,  a 
striped  snake  slid  by  them  in  the  grass,  jays 
screamed  and  quarreled  in  the  oaks.  Presently 
Arnaldo  held  up  his  hand ;  the  two  men  had 
proceeded  almost  without  sound,  for  the  habit  of 
his  trade  was  upon  one,  and  heavily  on  the  other 
the  desire  of  slaughter.  A  jay  steering  a  flight 
across  the  canon  veered  suddenly  near  a  group 
of  tall  chimneys  ;  another,  watching,  wheeled  to 
ward  the  point,  and  avoided  it  with  a  volley  of 
shrill  abuse.  Rabbits  that  ran  in  the  meadow 
halted  and  pricked  up  their  ears. 

"  We  have  him,"  said  the  tracker.  He  dropped 
from  his  horse,  and  began  to  work  back  on  the 
trail  to  put  the  brow  of  the  hill  between  them 

216 


ISIDRO   COMES  TO  A  CONCLUSION 

and  Las  Chimineas.  Isidro  was  no  fool  to  stay 
the  action  with  question  ;  he  took  off  his  spurs, 
which  clinked  softly  on  the  stones,  and  did  as  he 
saw  the  tracker  do.  In  a  ring  of  pines,  screened 
by  lilac,  they  made  the  horses  fast. 

"  Go  back  and  watch,"  said  Arnaldo  ;  "  when 
you  hear  three  quail  calls,  low  and  quick,  and  in 
the  same  key,  I  have  news  for  you." 

He  pressed  back  against  the  thicket  as  he 
spoke ;  it  seemed  to  spring  aside  to  give  him 
room ;  there  was  a  little  trepidation  in  the 
branches,  a  twig  snapped,  a  bird  started,  the 
warm  silence  of  the  wood  closed  in  again.  Isidro 
looked  at  the  places  where  the  man  might  be 
supposed  to  be,  but  saw  not  so  much  as  the  glint 
of  the  sun  on  bare  skin.  He  did  not  do  quite  as 
he  had  been  told ;  he  went  back  to  the  hill  and 
over  it,  and  by  dint  of  all  the  Indian  craft  he 
knew,  pressed  down  to  the  lower  barrier  and 
then  up  to  the  top  of  that,  until  he  looked  full 
on  the  meadow  of  Las  Chimineas.  In  a  secret 
place  where  the  grass  grew  tall  against  the  rooted 
rocks  he  saw  a  pinto  pony  a-graze  at  the  end  of 
a  stake  rope.  This  and  the  smooth  spread  of 

217 


ISIDRO 

open  meadow  gave  him  a  hint  and  food  for 
thought  that  lasted  until  he  judged  the  tracker 
might  have  returned.  He  took  a  longer  way  back 
to  the  horses,  looking  for  the  tracks  by  which 
Mascado  had  presumably  come  into  the  meadow, 
and  heard  the  signal  given  twice  from  the  thicket 
on  the  hill  before  he  came  quite  up  to  it. 

"Well?"  he  said.  Arnaldo  the  tracker  was 
the  man  for  such  business ;  he  handed  you  up 
the  facts  without  discursiveness,  and  spared  com 
ment  until  the  adventure  was  achieved. 

"  Mascado/'  he  said.  "  He  harbors  below  that 
one  of  the  chimneys  that  has  a  red  stain  of  moss 
upon  it.  The  boy  lies  bound  to  a  log  of  oak. 
Mascado  mends  the  fire  and  goes  about  to  cook 
a  rabbit." 

"  Has  he  arms  ?  " 

"He  has  a  knife  about  his  neck,  but  neither 
bow  nor  spear.  The  rabbit  was  caught  in  a 
snare ;  I  saw  it  hanging  on  a  rock." 

"  Good,"  said  Isidro  ;  "  I  have  seen  his  horse ; 
the  meadow  is  between  it  and  him.  Good  again. 
Look  you,  Arnaldo,  this  is  my  game.  Take  this/' 
—  it  was  a  pistol  from  his  saddle  holster, — 

218 


ISIDRO   COMES  TO  A  CONCLUSION 

"  and  go  back  to  the  chimneys  and  watch  until  I 
have  called  Mascado  out  to  me.  If  he  so  much 
as  lays  a  hand  on  the  lad,  kill ;  but  if  not,  then 
do  as  I  say.  When  Mascado  has  come  out  to  me 
in  the  meadow,  unbind  the  boy,  and  bring  him 
here.  If  I  happen  to  any  mischance,  take  him 
safely  to  the  Father  President." 

"What  will  you  do?" 

"  Do  ?  Ah,  there  is  much  to  do.  You  shall 
see."  Isidro  was  coiling  and  recoiling  the  riata 
which  hung  at  every  saddle-bow  in  those  days  of 
Alta  California.  He  ran  it  through  his  hands 
and  rehung  it  to  his  satisfaction.  The  tracker 
observed  him  with  a  dawning  grin. 

"  Mascado  knows  a  trick  of  a  rope,"  he  said. 

"  I  also,"  said  Escobar ;  "  now  go." 

He  waited  in  the  scrub  until  he  judged  the 
Indian  close  in  to  Mascado' s  cover ;  then,  mount 
ing,  he  drew  cautiously  around  the  end  of  the 
hill  and  rode  freely  into  the  meadow.  He  sat 
lightly  in  the  saddle,  and  swung  the  noose  of 
his  riata  with  irrepressible  cheerfulness.  Escobar 
was  his  own  man  again. 

"  Oh,  ho,  Mascado ;  "  he  cried,  "  come  out  to 
219 


ISIDRO 

me  !  "  His  voice,  high  and  pleasant,  went  search- 
ingly  through  the  rocks.  The  jays  heard  it,  and 
replied  with  screaming ;  the  squirrels  heard,  and 
stayed  in  mid  motion  as  gray  and  quiet  as  the 
boulders.  El  Zarzo  heard  it,  and  sat  up  thanking 
God  for  a  miracle.  She  knew  the  voice  and  knew 
at  once  that  in  her  heart  she  had  always  expected 
he  would  come. 

"  Oh-ee  !  Mascado,  come  out  to  me  !  "  Tsidro 
rode  up  and  down  in  the  meadow  swinging  his 
rope.  Mascado's  muscle  sprung  to  attention  ;  he 
had  his  knife  at  the  girl's  throat ;  it  was  to  say 
in  its  own  fashion  that  Escobar  should  not  have 
her.  She  looked  up  and  smiled. 

"Do,"  she  breathed,  "for  after  that  he  will 
but  kill  you  the  quicker." 

Arnaldo  judged  it  time  for  interference.  He 
dropped  like  a  cat  from  the  rocks,  his  pistol 
cocked. 

"Mascado,  you  dog,"  he  said,  "the  Senior 
Escobar  calls  you." 

The  renegade  was  not  without  some  sparks  of 
manhood  or  philosophy ;  he  stood  up,  dropped 
his  knife  into  its  sheath,  dropped  his  arms  at  his 

220 


ISIDRO   COMES   TO   A  CONCLUSION 

sides,  and  went  out  walking  straight  and  softly 
to  Escobar.  Isidro  looked  him  over  with  some 
amazement,  which  did  not,  however,  abate  his 
cheerfulness. 

"  What  is  that  on  your  breast,  Mascado  ?  "  he 
said. 

"  Scratches,  senor." 

"  Sacramento !  but  they  look  to  be  the  marks 
of  deer's  hooves,  and  not  a  month  old  at  that." 

The  mestizo  looked  down  ?i  his  scars  with 
something  of  a  smile. 

"  So  it  would  seem,  senor." 

"  It  appears,  then,  that  we  have  met  before." 

"  So  it  would  seem." 

"  On  which  occasion  I  did  you  a  favor  and  got 
scant  thanks  for  it." 

Mascado  had  a  wintry  look,  "  For  which  later 
you  did  me  harm  enough,  Senor  Escobar." 

"  What  harm,  you  dog  ?  "  quoth  Escobar. 

Mascado's  face  was  bleak,  but  his  eyes  glinted. 
"  El  Zarzo,"  he  whispered  dryly. 

"  Now  by  God  and  His  Christ !  "  said  Isidro, 
"  but  that  word  is  likely  to  cost  you  dear.  But 
I  cannot  kill  a  dog  standing.  Get  horse,  Mas- 

221 


ISIDRO 

cado ;  I  have  heard  you  can  throw  a  rope." 
Isidro's  circling  rawhide  hummed  in  the  air  ;  he 
threw  it  up  and  kept  it  there  by  the  whirling 
force  of  motion.  He  ran  it  out,  and  bid  it  fol 
low  the  mestizo  like  a  questing  snake.  It  was  an 
exercise  in  which  his  perfect  attune  of  body  and 
temper  made  him  excellent.  It  had  been  said  of 
him  at  Las  Plumas  that  he  won  in  such  con 
tests  because  he  did  not  particularly  care  for 
honors  where  the  eagerness  of  others  shook  the 
hand. 

Mascado  got  his  horse.  Certainly  Escobar 
had  saved  his  life  in  the  affair  of  the  buck  under 
the  oak,  but  this  did  not  mend  his  disposition ; 
unquestionably  Isidro  had  exceeded  the  require 
ments  in  permitting  him  honorable  contest  of  a 
sort  not  uncommon  in  the  country,  but  it  did 
not  lessen  his  hate.  However,  and  it  was  much 
more  to  the  purpose,  the  consciousness  which  he 
could  hardly  escape,  that  his  private  meditation 
did  not  fit  very  well  with  the  circumstances,  lent 
him  a  touch  of  shame  that  mitigated  his  skill. 
Vengeance  burned  in  him  sickeningly.  The 
rogue  was  for  murder  if  the  chance  allowed. 

222 


ISIDRO  COMES  TO  A  CONCLUSION 

The  mestizo  took  pains  and  time  with  his  rope, 
fretted  to  see  it  a  little  touched  by  the  dampness 
of  the  meadow.  Isidro  kept  his  swinging  to  a 
kind  of  wordless  tune.  Arnaldo  and  the  girl  had 
come  out  of  the  rocks  and  watched  them  from 
the  hill. 

"  Come  on,  Mascado,  come !  "  cried  Isidro. 

Mascado  came ;  riding  at  full  gallop  he  threw 
the  rope,  dipped  as  he  rode  and  slipped  from  his 
horse's  back  to  the  belly.  Escobar's  noose  slipped 
smoothly  from  his  shoulder ;  in  fact  neither  rope 
found  lodgment.  The  sod  of  the  meadow  was 
wet  and  springy ;  it  gave  to  the  horses'  feet ; 
not  the  best  ground  for  trying  a  duello  of  riatas, 
but  there  was  advantage  to  neither  side.  They 
wheeled,  recoiled,  and  rode.  At  the  second  cast 
Isidro's  rope  went  neither  far  nor  wide,  but  there 
was  threatening  in  its  hum.  He  bent  backward 
as  he  threw;  to  Arnaldo,  watching,  it  seemed 
that  he  went  clean  off  his  horse  to  avoid  the  fly 
ing  loop  that  hovered  a  moment  and  settled  on 
the  horn  of  his  saddle.  It  appeared  that  was  the 
moment  Isidro  waited  for  ;  without  casting  off 
he  stood  with  his  horse  at  tension,  and  his  rope, 

223 


ISIDRO 

which  had  gone  but  a  noose  length  from  him, 
shot  out  from  his  long  right  arm,  dropped  over 
Mascado,  and  with  a  jerk  Escobar  had  him  from 
his  saddleless  pony.  The  mestizo  had  his  feet 
under  him  in  the  moment  of  lighting ;  if  Isidro 
drew  in  fast  Mascado  came  faster.  One  arm 
was  pinioned,  but  the  other  was  free  from  the 
shoulder;  he  had  out  his  knife.  He  came  in 
great  bounds  like  a  cat,  rising  from  the  springy 
meadow;  rage  foamed  in  him  like  unbridled 
waters.  His  own  horse,  with  feet  spread  and 
planted,  held  Escobar  at  the  end  of  a  taut  rope. 
Isidro  fumbled  at  it  to  cast  off,  but  not  before 
Mascado  got  in  a  blow  above  the  shoulder. 
Isidro  set  spurs  and  set  them  deep  with  the  im 
pact  of  the  knife.  The  mestizo  had  a  moment  of 
check  as  the  horse  sprang  away  from  him,  but 
the  tug  of  the  rope  brought  him  sprawling.  His 
body  rose  in  the  air,  thudded  on  the  sod,  rose 
again ;  and  the  knife,  struck  from  his  hand, 
whirled  a  gleaming  flight  across  the  meadow. 
By  this  Arnaldo  came  running  from  the  hill  and 
cried  out  to  Escobar  in  God's  name.  The  spurt 
of  Isidro' s  anger,  which  took  him  the  width  of 

224 


ISIDRO  COMES   TO   A  CONCLUSION 

the  meadow,  lasted  no  longer  than  the  knife 
smart,  and  went  out  of  him  as  the  blood  went, 
leaving  him  drained  and  faint.  Arnaldo  got  his 
rope  around  Mascado's  legs,  and  so  bound  and 
disarmed  drew  him  up  to  them. 

"  See  to  him,"  said  Isidro. 

"  And  not  to  your  wound,  senor  ?  " 

"  It  will  wait.  It  may  be  I  have  other  scores  to 
settle  with  this  rascally  half-breed."  He  turned 
his  horse  toward  El  Zarzo  on  the  hill.  On  the 
way  to  Las  Chimineas  he  had  worked  himself  into 
a  cool  distaste  for  this  meeting,  but  the  affair 
with  Mascado,  the  rage  at  treachery,  the  smart 
and  indignity  of  his  wound  had  the  effect  of  a 
hiatus.  He  had  a  shock,  therefore,  to  come  face 
to  face  with  the  Briar  looking  haggard  and  large- 
eyed,  with  red  marks  of  bonds  upon  her  wrists. 
The  qualm  of  meeting  warned  him  how  dear  the 
lad  had  been.  Isidro  trembled  as  he  got  down 
from  his  horse.  They  were  both  pale,  and  shook, 
came  close  and  stood  by  each  other,  but  did  not 
touch. 

"  Has  he  hurt  you  ?"  cried  Escobar ;  "  has  he 
laid  hands  upon  you  ?  If  he  has  wronged  you  I 

225 


ISIDRO 

shall  kill  him."  Ah,  ah !  they  were  both  red 
enough  now,  she  in  a  tide  of  maiden  shame  that 
swept  up  to  the  dark  crescent  of  her  hair  and 
confessed  her  what  his  words  implied,  he  with 
shame  for  her  shame.  Well,  at  any  rate,  the  mis 
chief  was  out. 

"Has  he  hurt  you,  senorita  ?  "  Isidro  said  again 
more  collectedly. 

"  He  did  not  dare,"  cried  the  girl. 

"  He  will  never  have  the  chance  again,"  said 
the  young  man.  "  I  will  deal  with  him  as  you 
wish."  But  the  girl  had  a  more  pressing  con 
cern. 

"  You  bleed,  senor,  you  are  hurt,"  she  trem 
bled. 

"  A  flesh  cut  merely,"  he  said ;  "  Arnaldo  will 
dress  it."  He  meant  nothing  more  than  to  reas 
sure  her,  but  to  El  Zarzo  it  signified  the  change 
in  their  relations.  This  month  past  he  would 
have  had  no  other  serve  him.  She  hung  her 
head ;  there  was  no  blinking  the  fact  of  his 
knowledge,  though  she  did  not  ask  him  then,  nor 
until  long  afterward,  how  he  came  by  it.  She 
was  boyish  enough  to  look  at,  lithe  and  slim,  with 

226 


ISIDRO   COMES   TO  A  CONCLUSION 

hair,  straight  as  the  fine  slant  wires  of  rain,  fall 
ing  on  either  cheek  below  the  round,  firm  chin. 
But  he  knew  her  for  a  maid,  and  found  the  cer 
tainty  confusion  enough.  It  was  all  of  an  hour, 
and  that  for  a  man  of  his  temper  was  a  long  time? 
before  he  was  cheerful  and  cool  again.  Manlike 
he  made  her  pay  for  his  aberration,  —  put  her 
miles  from  him  by  an  exquisite  politeness,  made 
her  miserable  by  proffered  duty,  in  short,  brought 
the  trappings  of  good  breeding  to  serve  his  own 
wounded  susceptibility. 

There  was  no  question  of  going  on  that  night. 
The  horses  were  fagged,  the  riders,  too,  for  that 
matter,  and  Isidro  needed  time  to  consider  his 
affairs.  The  shadow  of  the  west  canon  wall,  that 
had  spread  in  the  meadow  and  up  as  far  as  the 
edge  of  the  wood  on  the  east  while  Isidro  and 
Mascado  wheeled  together,  had  by  now  reached 
the  ridge  and  gone  on  deepening  and  darkling 
through  the  forest.  Stars  came  out  above  it  low 
and  white.  A  troop  of  does  and  fawns  running 
nose  to  flank  came  out  of  the  oaks  at  the  end  of 
the  barrier  and  passed  on  to  the  lower  meadow. 
Higher  up  a  bobcat  mother  led  out  her  young 

227 


ISIDRO 

and  played  with  them  among  the  rocks ;  night 
hawks  hurtled  across  the  damp  and  musky  mea 
dow. 

They  lit  a  fire  among  the  chimneys ;  three  of 
them  got  little  sleep.  Isidro,  nursing  his  hurt ; 
Mascado,  trussed  like  a  fowl  for  the  spit ;  Ja- 
cinta,  for  so  she  must  be  called,  too  much  a  maid 
not  to  want  the  relief  of  tears,  too  much  a  boy  to 
know  the  use  of  them  ;  Arnaldo,  —  but  there  was 
really  no  reason  why  Arnaldo  should  not  sleep, 
therefore  he  did;  and  he  being  refreshed,  the 
others  in  need  of  refreshment,  they  were  up  and 
stirring  betimes.  Isidro  had  settled  with  himself 
that  he  could  not  take  the  girl  back  to  Carmelo, 
but  must  first  find  her  harborage  and  see  Saave- 
dra.  Something,  also,  he  purposed  toward  Peter 
Lebecque,  who  was  possibly  most  to  blame  for 
the  girl's  assumption. 

"  How  do  we  stand  toward  Carmelo  ? "  he 
said  to  the  tracker. 

"  East  by  south." 

"  And  how  toward  the  other  Missions  ?  " 

"  We  might  fetch  San  Antonio  by  a  hard 
day's  riding ;  there  is  a  trail  hereabouts  which 

228 


ISIDRO  COMES  TO  A  CONCLUSION 

leads  directly  into  it.  All  the  others  are  best 
reached  from  el  camino  real." 

"  And  this  trail,  could  you  find  it  ?  Then  to 
San  Antonio  I  will  go,  but  first  I  must  dispose 
of  this  gentleman." 

"  The  Father  President,"  said  Arnaldo,  "  would 
be  glad  of  him." 

"No  doubt,"  said  Isidro,  "but  we  do  not 
travel  toward  Carmelo,  and,  besides,  we  have 
but  three  horses." 

"  The  world,"  said  the  tracker,  "  would  wag 
as  well  without  such  cattle."  Arnaldo  was  a  free 
man  from  the  south  and  had  the  scorn  of  the 
full  blood  for  the  admixture ;  besides,  he  had 
pricked  up  his  ears  to  hear  Escobar  address  the 
boy  as  senorita,  and  surmised  how  matters  stood. 

"  A  true  word,"  said  Isidro,  "  but  I  am  in  no 
mood  for  killing." 

"  Leave  him  to  me."  Arnaldo  tied  the  mestizo 
by  a  great  variety  of  knots  to  a  tree,  leaving  his 
hands  free  ;  his  knife  he  laid  on  a  rock  out  of 
reach.  "  If  he  is  diligent  he  may  be  free  of  his 
bonds  by  this  time  to-morrow ;  now  we  will 

ride." 

229 


ISIDRO 

"Let  me  not  see  him  again/'  said  Isidro. 
"  Twice  I  have  spared  his  life ;  the  luck  turns 
on  odd  numbers."  They  left  him  with  black 
looks  and  stolid  ;  he  had  not  so  much  as  raised 
his  hand  to  wipe  off  the  blood  of  yesterday's 
scratches.  Isidro  lifted  the  girl  upon  Mascado's 
horse.  She  could  very  well  have  sprung  there, 
but  it  was  part  of  the  punishment  he  designed 
by  way  of  alleviation  for  his  hurt  esteem ;  she 
had  claims  upon  —  just  what  he  could  not  say 
precisely,  but  claims  which  he  would  satisfy 
handsomely,  though  he  had  no  notion  of  putting 
her  too  soon  at  ease.  He  grew  less  assured  of 
his  position,  seeing  how  she  went  staidly  and. 
with  bent  head,  except  for  quietness  the  very 
boy  that  he  had  brought  up  from  the  Grapevine. 
But  she  was  plainly  no  Indian ;  the  more  he 
looked  at  her  the  more  he  knew  it ;  hands,  feet, 
and  high,  straight  nose  pointed  the  assurance. 

If  Escobar  were  satisfied  with  the  adequacy  of 
his  intention  toward  her,  the  girl  was  not,  want 
ing  the  assurance  of  it. 

"  Senor,"  she  said  when,  after  an  hour's  rid 
ing,  Arnaldo  left  them  in  a  pleasant  place  of 

230 


ISIDRO  COMES  TO   A  CONCLUSION 

flowers  while  he  cast  about  for  the  trail,  "  senor, 
what  will  you  do  with  me  ?  " 

"  I  will  take  you  to  San  Antonio." 

"  And  then  ?  " 

"  Tell  me  the  truth,  —  are  you  an  Indian  ?  " 

"  Senor,  I  do  not  know  ;  Peter  Lebecque  has 
told  me  that  I  am  not,  but  the  woman  I  called 
mother,  she  was  an  Indian." 

"  What  was  Mascado  to  you  ?  " 

"  Peter  Lebecque's  friend.  At  least  he  came 
often  to  our  place  at  the  Grapevine.  Lebecque 
hunted  and  trapped  with  him,  but  I  cannot  think 
that  he  liked  him.  It  was  after  Mascado  had 
been  with  us  that  the  old  man  would  tell  me  to 
remember  that  I  was  no  Indian." 

"Why  was  that?" 

"  Senor,  I  did  not  know  at  that  time.  I  think 
now  it  was  because  Mascado  wished  to  have 


me." 


"  He  knew,  then,  that  you  were  a  maid  ?  " 
"  He  has  known  it  for  two  years ;  he  says 
that  Lebecque  told  him,  but  it  must  have  been 
when  they  were  at  wine,  for  Lebecque  was  very 
angry." 

231 


ISIDRO 

"  Why  is  it  that  you  dress  in  this  fashion?" 

"  Senor,  I  have  known  no  other.  It  was  my 
mother's  wish,  her  that  I  called  mother.  I  think 
she  fancied  I  was  safer  so ;  it  was  a  rough  life." 

"And  you  know  nothing  of  your  real  pa 
rents  ?  " 

"  Nothing.  At  the  time  I  left  the  Grapevine 
Peter  Lebecque  gave  me  a  packet  which  he  hinted 
would  have  placed  me  rightly." 

"What  became  of  it?" 

"  I  left  it  with  the  Padres  at  Carmelo." 

"  And  nothing  came  of  it  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  senor."  There  was  no  untruth  nor 
evasion  here,  but  if  she  had  told  him  how  long 
she  kept  the  packet  by  her,  and  how  disposed  it, 
she  must  needs  have  told  him  why,  and  for  that 
she  had  no  words. 

Hearing  Arnaldo  call  they  rode  forward 
briskly.  After  that  the  talk  was  more  at  ease,  all 
of  the  wood  and  the  road  and  the  wild  things 
that  crossed  their  trail. 

"  It  is  strange,"  said  Isidro,  "  that  we  meet 
no  Indians;  I  had  thought  the  hills  were  full 
of  them." 

232 


ISIDRO  COMES  TO  A  CONCLUSION 

Said  Arnaldo,  "  Report  has  it  that  they  gather 
to  Urbano  in  the  Tulares." 

"  Think  you  he  means  raiding  ?  " 

"  Against  the  Mission  beeves,  —  no  worse/' 
said  the  tracker. 

Jacinta  said  little  of  any  sort,  but  that  to  the 
point. 

"  Senor,"  she  said  again  when  they  came  to 
an  open  grassy  valley  riding  side  by  side,  "  when 
you  have  me  at  San  Antonio  what  will  you  do 
with  me  ?  " 

"Marry  you,"  said  Isidro  with  the  greatest 
cheerfulness. 

One  guesses  the  marriage  of  convenience  to  be 
the  procurement  of  more  than  simple  living  ;  the 
earthborn  admits  no  inducement  but  the  drawing 
of  lip  to  lip  and  eye  to  eye,  the  seeking  of  each 
for  each  in  its  degree.  One  must  go  far  from 
the  well  of  nature  to  allow  other  reason  ;  even 
the  mating  beasts  know  better.  Jacinta  knew 
nothing  of  scandal,  nothing  of  caste  except  as  by 
her  love  she  put  Escobar  above  all  others,  and, 
therefore,  nothing  of  social  expedients.  Marriage 
was  a  great  mystery,  but  needing  love  for  its  ex- 

233 


ISIDRO 

cuse ;  that  much  she  knew.  Though  Isidro  spoke 
of  marriage  he  had  not  spoken  of  love,  —  no,  nor 
looked  it;  and  against  a  loveless  marriage  her 
maidenhood  cried  out.  She  would  be  hot  when 
he  was  cold,  shaken  when  he  was  steady  ;  as  often 
as  he  touched  her,  flooded  with  shame  of  her 
full  pulse  beating  against  his  still  one.  How 
should  she  endure  marriage  with  such  a  one, 
even  though  he  be  rated  a  god  or  among  the 
Blessed  Personages?  It  seemed  a  greater  indig 
nity  than  Mascado  would  have  put  upon  her,  for 
the  first  would  but  have  held  her  body  and  this 
one  had  her  soul.  Plainly  love  sickens  of  desire 
if  it  be  not  the  flower  of  love.  All  this  Jacinta 
raged  over  formlessly,  without  speech.  Of  the 
chivalry  which  prompted  the  young  man's  intent 
she  understood  nothing;  but  seeing  him  smiling 
and  well  pleased  with  himself,  judged  that  she 
was  of  even  less  account,  and  sickened,  poor  girl, 
even  while  she  beheld  him  glorious  in  the  young 
day  and  the  flooding  light.  She  could  not  dare, 
though  she  thought  of  it  a  hundred  times,  slip 
her  horse  and  run  hiding  in  the  hills,  trapped  by 
her  own  weakness  and  his  lordly  will. 

234 


ISIDRO  COMES  TO  A  CONCLUSION 

In  such  tides  the  spirit  ripens  fast,  —  quicker 
if  it  houses  in  Latin  blood.  Isidro  was  like  to 
find  little  of  the  lad  left  by  the  time  they  came 
to  the  Mission  San  Antonio  de  Padua  de  las 
Robles.  In  the  mean  time  he  smoked  cigarettes 
and  discoursed  pleasantly  of  many  things. 


XVII 

A  WEDDING  AT  SAN  ANTONIO 

the  resident  Padres  at  San  Anto- 
nio,  Tomas  de  las  Penas  and  Reyes 
Carrasco,  Padre  Tomas  at  least  was 
.:  no  causatlonist.    What  he  believed 
:.:    he  believed,  and  that  was  the  end  of  it.    If 
•     Holy  Church  said  a  thing  was  good  for 
:     you,  it  was  good  for  you.    Any  failure  in 
•:;:•  the  application  lay  in  yourself,  or  in  the 
inscrutable  wisdom  of  God,  who  often  or 
dered  things  contrariwise  to  our  expectation  the 
better  to   increase   the   merit    of   belief.    Holy 
Church  had  prerogatives  of  cursings  and  exor 
cisms  and  cuttings  off,  power  against  men  and 
Legion  and  evil  beasts.     For  it  was  not  to  be 
supposed  that  her  children  would  be  safe  against 
persons  and  Powers  of  the  Air,  and  be  given 
over  to  the  ravages  of  wildcats  and  bears. 

There  was  a  reason  for  you  if  you  were  so  con 
tumacious  as  to  require  one,  though  a  greater 

236 


A   WEDDING   AT   SAN   ANTONIO 

merit  if  you  were  able  to  believe  it,  whether  it 
looked  reasonable  or  not.  Further  than  that, 
San  Antonio  himself  had  preached  to  the  fishes, 
and  Padre  Tomas  preached  to  the  bears. 

Something  may  have  been  wanting  in  the  ad 
ministration,  for  the  Padre  preached  in  the  Mis 
sion  church  while  the  bears  visited  the  calf-pens 
by  night.  These  depredations  continuing,  Padre 
Tomas  went  farther,  and  cut  them  off  from  the 
company  of  the  elect,  as  you  shall  hear. 

The  Superiors  of  the  Order  of  St.  Francis  of 
Assisi  had  a  wonderful  keenness  for  parts.  They 
put  a  man  to  his  best  use  with  seldom  a  mistake 
in  the  selection.  This  accounts  for  their  being  at 
once  the  least  coveteous  and  most  materially  suc 
cessful  of  Holy  Brotherhoods.  Padre  Carrasco 
had  a  knack  with  cattle  and  the  soil,  Padre  Tomas 
of  the  Stripes,  a  gift  for  the  cure  of  souls.  They 
got  on  admirably  together,  but,  though  their 
spirits  seemed  equal  to  their  labors,  it  appeared 
at  times  that  their  bodies  were  ill  set.  Padre 
Carrasco  was  a  lean  man  with  a  thoughtful  cast ; 
Padre  Tomas  was  most  mortify ingly  rotund,  com 
fortable,  soft,  and  rosy.  It  was  his  particular 

237 


ISIDRO 

affliction  that  if  he  ate  no  more  than  a  handful 
of  peas  with  cold  water,  it  stuck  to  his  ribs 
and  made  him  fat.  Such  being  the  case,  there 
was  no  merit  in  abstemiousness,  and  the  Padre 
did  not  practice  it.  He  was  a  strict  ritualist, 
especially  observant  of  high  feasts  and  festivals, 
very  tender  in  confessional,  mild  as  to  penances, 
much  loved  by  his  people.  His  project  of  arraign 
ing  the  powers  of  the  Church  against  the  bears 
was  favorably  looked  upon  by  the  neophytes. 
Holy  water  was  efficacious  in  so  many  things ! 
Upon  this  conclusion  the  day  chosen  was  that 
same  one  upon  which  Isidro  and  his  party  were 
riding  in  from  Las  Chimineas.  Toward  the  end 
of  afternoon  all  San  Antonio  was  out  in  proces 
sion,  priest  and  priest's  boy,  chasuble  and  stole, 
censers,  candles,  and  banners,  and,  to  crown  all, 
a  picture  of  the  patron  of  the  Mission  in  a  gilt 
frame ;  after  these  the  choir  and  several  hun 
dred  Indians,  more  or  less  naked,  interested  and 
sincere. 

The  procession  skirted  the  fields,  winding  to 
avoid  wet  pastures  and  unclean  thickets ;  the 
candles  starred  out  under  the  gloom  of  the 

238 


A   WEDDING   AT   SAN   ANTONIO 

bearded  oaks,  and  paled  again  in  the  sun ;  blue 
smoke  of  incense  curled  across  the  meadows.  The 
mellow  voices  of  the  choir  set  the  time  for  the 
feet  of  the  elder  Indians,  who  shuffled  and 
crooned  melodiously  behind  them.  Their  bodies 
swung  ;  they  beat  their  hands  together ;  it  needed 
but  a  hint  to  set  them  off  in  the  rhythmic  cere 
monial  dances  of  their  pagan  times.  Your  native 
Indian  is  devoutly  a  lover  of  ritual ;  the  neo 
phytes  of  San  Antonio  were  enjoying  themselves 
highly.  Padre  Carrasco  signed  the  cross  in  the 
air  and  sprinkled  holy  water  on  the  tasseled  grass. 
The  voice  of  Padre  Tomas  rose  solemn  and 
unctuous. 

"  I  adjure  you,  0  bears,  by  the  true  God,  by 
the  Holy  God,  by  the  most  blessed  Virgin  Mary, 
by  the  twelve  apostles,  and  by  our  most  reverend 
saint  and  patron,  to  leave  the  field  to  our  flocks, 
not  to  molest  them  or  come  near  them." 

"  In  nomine  patris"  droned  the  procession 
behind  him.  Isidro  and  Jacinta  came  up  with 
them  at  the  northeast  corner  of  the  Mission  in- 
closure. 

Padre  Tomas  loved  guests  and  the  exercise 
239 


ISIDRO 

of  hospitality,  but  he  had  other  affairs.  He  waved 
the  party  of  riders  aside  and  proceeded  with  his 
holy  office.  They  fell  in  with  children  and  dogs 
tailing  the  procession,  and  so  rode  to  the  Mission, 
saw  the  candles,  censers,  and  effigy  of  the  patron 
disposed  and  Padre  Tomas  restored  to  his  nor 
mal  use. 

"Padre,"  said  Escobar,  when  he  had  intro 
duced  himself  and  been  well  received,  "  I  desire 
you  to  give  lodgment  to  this  lady."  The  Padre 
stared,  seeing  only  a  slim  lad  with  a  sullen  air. 
"  I  wish,  also,  that  she  may  be  suitably  clothed 
as  becoming  her  condition,  and  in  the  morning 
you  shall  marry  us." 

Isidro  thought  it  well  to  be  forward  with  any 
business  once  decided  upon.  He  saw  a  hundred 
doubts,  questions,  protests,  trembling  in  the 
Padre's  countenance.  He  went  on  to  forestall 
them.  "  No  doubt  there  are  many  things,  Padre, 
which  seem  to  you  to  want  explaining,  but  the 
first  account  of  this  matter  I  owe  the  Father 
President  at  Carmelo,  to  whom  I  am  bound. 
After  that  I  shall  be  pleased  to  make  all  things 
clear.  For  myself,  I  want  nothing  of  you  but  a 

240 


A  WEDDING  AT  SAN  ANTONIO 

meal ;  we  have  eaten  nothing  since  morning." 
This  was  to  Padre  Tomas  a  predicament  as  seri 
ous  as  for  a  maid  to  be  riding  about  in  man's 
clothing ;  moreover,  a  matter  within  his  province, 
and  remediable.  He  felicitated  himself  that  he 
had  planned  something  by  way  of  addition  to  his 
evening  meal,  —  a  little  matter  of  stuffed  fowl,  a  "\ 
dish  of  curried  eggs,  a  pastry  of  wild  strawberries. 
Isidro's  plan  to  marry  the  girl  he  had  known 
only  as  El  Zarzo  was  not  so  much  out  of  hand 
as  it  appeared.  It  had  come  out  of  him  all  at 
once  like  a  shot,  but  there  had  been  a  night's 
meditation  back  of  it.  Once  out,  it  was  sure  to 
be  followed  up  in  fact,  for  the  youngster  had 
great  respect  for  his  own  judgments,  and  honored 
them  with  the  act  as  often  as  possible.  His  atti 
tude  toward  women  was  informed  by  the  evi 
dence  of  his  time,  —  that  they  did  not  know 
very  well  how  to  take  care  of  themselves.  The 
girl  was  pure,  —  he  was  sure  of  that,  —  but  in 
the  common  estimate  besmirched ;  that  was  hardly 
fair,  and  Isidro  loved  fairness ;  otherwise  he 
would  hardly  have  allowed  Mascado  his  horse 
and  a  rope.  In  much  the  same  spirit  he  lent  the 

241 


ISIDRO 

girl  the  succor  of  his  name.  He  had  a  high  and 
mighty  notion  that  scandal  could  not  stick  on 
the  skirts  of  an  Escobar.  Well,  not  if  he  was  at 
hand  to  see  to  it.  As  for  the  girl,  she  was  hardly 
in  case  to  be  consulted,  having  no  one  to  take 

'  O 

her  part,  equally  no  one  to  forbid  the  banns; 
and,  being  a  girl,  probably  did  not  know  what 
was  best  for  her. 

So  far,  good ;  he  had  yet  to  face  his  dedicate 
calling  and  the  will  of  Saavedra,  in  whose  juris 
diction  he  stood.  That  checked  him ;  but  as  he 
had  never  felt  the  need  of  a  wife,  the  obligation 
of  having  one  sat  lightly,  and  he  reflected  that 
there  had  been  those  who  had  arrived  at  saintship 
through  a  virgin  marriage.  He  was  honest  enough 
toward  Saavedra  to  admit  that  virgin  it  must  be 
until  he  had  heard  the  Superior's  will  in  the  mat 
ter.  He  looked  to  the  sacrament  to  restore  the 
girl's  esteem,  but  he  glozed  over  the  inference 
that,  as  a  good  Catholic,  if  marriage  made  no 
impediment  to  his  priestly  career,  the  girl  would 
still  be  bound.  If  he  did  not  have  her  himself, 
no  other  could.  If  he  thought  of  this  at  all  he 
was  not  visibly  moved  to  commiserate  her  estate ; 

242 


A   WEDDING  AT   SAN   ANTONIO 

by  which  you  will  perceive  that  there  was  more 
in  the  youth's  heart,  whether  it  was  in  his  head 
or  not,  than  he  was  rightly  aware.  Of  all  his  con- 
trap  tio  us  obligations,  that  of  providing  for  the 
girl  stood  uppermost;  so  he  out  with  his  pro 
posal,  and  the  thing  once  shaped,  stood  to  it. 

Padre  Tomas  was  more  than  fluttered  by  the 
circumstance.  He  had  a  very  simple  way  of 
arranging  marriages  among  the  neophytes,  — 
every  year  he  stood  the  marriageable  youths  and 
maidens  in  two  lines,  and  if  neither  found  any 
objection  to  the  party  opposite,  he  married  them 
then  and  there,  after  which  he  delivered  a  homily. 
He  had  prepared  one  for  this  occasion  overnight, 
but  found  himself  put  out  of  calculation  by  the 
high  airs  of  Escobar,  and  the  confession  before 
communion  of  both  parties.  They  had  a  difficulty 
just  at  the  last,  for  the  girl  had  no  name  by  which 
she  could  properly  be  married.  But  as  she  was 
sure  upon  the  point  of  baptism,  and  well  grounded 
in  the  Christian  observances,  —  Isidro's  work,  — 
it  was  settled  by  registering  her  under  the  name 
of  her  foster  father,  Lebecque,  with  the  place  left 
vacant  for  her  Christian  name  until  Isidro  had 

243 


ISIDRO 

come  back  from  the  hut  of  the  Grapevine,  where 
he  purposed  going. 

Escobar  had  half  an  hour  with  his  wife  in  the 
Mission  garden  before  he  set  out.  The  elevation 
of  the  sacrament  was  still  upon  him,  that  and  the 
consciousness  of  having  behaved  much  more  hand 
somely  than  could  reasonably  have  been  expected 
of  him.  It  lent  him  sufficient  grace  to  get  smoothly 
through  with  what  might  have  been  an  embar 
rassing  interview  with  a  very  pretty  girl  whom 
he  had  known  as  a  boy,  married  without  consult 
ing,  and  was  about  to  desert  without  compunc 
tion.  The  girl  hardly  came  off  so  well,  being  in 
bondage,  poor  child,  to  a  harder  master  than  the 
marriage  vow.  But  she  was  very  pretty,  as  Isidro 
found  space  in  the  preoccupation  of  his  affairs  to 
admit.  The  clothes  that  had  been  provided  for 
her  were  all  that  the  Mission  afforded,  —  in  fact 
the  holiday  dress  of  the  Senora  Romero,  wife  to 
one  of  San  Antonio's  three  soldiers,  —  a  chemise 
of  white  linen,  a  neckerchief  of  fine  drawn  work,  a 
cloth  skirt,  and  the  universal  rebozo.  The  smoke- 
black  hair  was  drawn  back  under  a  comb,  and  re 
vealed  the  slow,  soft  oval  of  the  cheek  and  chin, 

244 


A  WEDDING  AT  SAN  ANTONIO 

so  fine  and  transparent  and  richly  warmed,  run 
ning  into  the  pale  brownness  of  the  brow,  the 
black,  deep-lighted  eyes,  invariably  fine  in  her 
type,  under  the  delicately  meeting  brows.  She 
had  a  trapped  look,  —  the  look  of  a  small  hunted 
thing  at  bay,  and  the  curve  of  the  mouth  was 
pitiful.  Isidro  admitted  the  haggardness  as  well 
as  the  good  looks,  but  it  struck  no  spark  out 
of  him. 

"  Wife,"  he  said,  for  in  fact  he  knew  not  what 
else  to  call  her,  "  you  seem  to  have  fallen  into 
good  hands.  The  Senora  Romero  is  no  doubt  an 

o 

excellent  lady.  This  leads  me  to  believe  you  will 
be  quite  comfortable  while  I  am  about  other  af 
fairs.  I  will  go  first  to  Peter  Lebecque ;  there 
must  be  things  which  he  should  say  to  me  neces 
sary  to  your  proper  establishment.  Also  I  must 
see  Father  Saavedra,  for  my  leave-taking  was 
something  uncourteous.  I  doubt  not  the  good 
Padre  thinks  me  mad  or  dead.  After  that  I  can 
not  tell  what  will  become  of  me,  but  you,  being 
my  wife,  need  have  no  concern.  I  will  come  again 
and  see  you  safely  and  honorably  bestowed,  but 
the  manner  of  it  I  cannot  at  this  time  tell.  It 

245 


ISIDEO 

will  be  somewhat  as  circumstance  and  the  Father 
President  direct.  In  the  mean  time,  I  commend 
you  to  God  and  Our  Lady,  to  St.  Francis  our  pa 
tron,  and  to  the  hospitality  of  Padre  Tomas." 

This  was  the  substance  of  his  speech,  deliv 
ered  at  length  in  the  pomegranate  walk  of  San 
Antonio's  garden.  Jacinta  was  dumb  under  it. 
Such  was  not  the  custom  of  bridegrooms ;  this 
much  she  would  have  known  without  the  excel 
lently  voluble  discourse  on  the  nature  of  marriage 
bestowed  upon  her  by  the  corporal's  wife  with 
the  wedding  clothes.  She  was  the  daughter  of 
a  proud,  sensitive  man  and  a  sensitive,  passion 
ate  woman,  and,  with  her  forest  breeding,  had 
the  instinct  of  a  wild  pigeon  for  straight  cuts. 
So  she  arrived  at  some  very  mortifying  conclu 
sions.  First,  that  by  her  boy's  trappings,  which 
she  had  never  thought  to  question,  she  had  lost 
esteem  of  very  many  people,  among  them  Esco 
bar  ;  next,  that  much  as  he  disapproved  of  those, 
she  was  much  more  acceptable  to  him  as  Peter 
Lebecque's  lad  than  as  what  she  now  showed  to 
be  ;  most  of  all,  that  not  now  or  at  any  time  had 
he  acknowledged  one  pulse  of  the  hot  tide  that 

246 


A  WEDDING  AT  SAN  ANTONIO 

flooded  her  at  the  mere  thought  of  him.  She  had 
lain  all  night  with  quick  heart,  clinched  hands, 
and  a  maze  of  thought  in  which  one  thing  only 
seemed  clear,  —  the  wild  creature's  instinct  to 
seek  cover  and  dissemble,  never  to  let  him  know ; 
the  phrase  had  an  echo  to  it  as  of  some  far  reced 
ing  wave  in  the  crypts  of  consciousness,  —  the 
heartbreak  of  Ysabel  crying  in  her  child.  All 
her  energies  were  bent  on  that.  She  would  have 
liked  to  run  away  into  the  hills,  to  the  free  life 
where  she  might  never  have  word  of  Escobar,  but 
she  knew  that  she  would  run  back  again  in  sheer 
hunger  for  a  sight  or  sound  of  him.  One  ques 
tion  she  allowed  herself  in  the  Mission  garden ; 
all  the  pride  of  the  Castros  rose  up  and  braved 
her  for  it. 

"  Senor,"  she  said,  "  when  we  rode  with 
Mariano's  sheep  toward  Pasteria  you  told  me  that 
you  were  to  become  a  priest  and  priests  may  not 
marry." 

"  Why,  as  to  that,"  said  the  young  man,  still 
going  smoothly  on  in  the  consciousness  of  irre 
proachable  intent,  "  the  Church  is  very  explicit 
as  to  continuing  in  the  married  estate,  but  many 

247 


ISIDRO 

of  the  apostles,  I  understand,  and  of  the  saints 
not  a  few,  have  been  married  before  taking  or 
ders,  notably  St.  Paul  and  St.  Peter  and  Santa 
Cecilia ;  but  that  is  a  matter  within  the  province 
of  the  Father  President." 

"And  what  will  become  of  me?"  was  the 
cry  that  rose  in  the  girl's  heart  and  broke  in  a 
thin  bubble  upon  her  lips ;  she  went  dumb,  — 
answered  by  nods  only,  with  dropped  eyes  and 
folded  hands.  Isidro  commended  her  discre 
tion,  when  the  poor  child  was  only  miserable. 
He  kissed  her  hand  at  parting  and  found  it 
chill. 

To  say  that  Padre  Tomas  was  astounded  to  see 
the  bridegroom  ride  away  on  his  wedding  morn 
ing  was  to  say  only  half.  He  was  even  affronted, 
and  stood  choking  and  staring  to  receive  Esco 
bar's  last  instructions,  delivered  with  the  smooth, 
courteous  air  which  sat  so  well  on  the  personable 
youth.  No  doubt,  thought  the  Padre,  it  was  com 
mendable  to  show  one's  self  subservient  to  the 
Superior  of  the  Order,  and  continence  was  a  vir 
tue  ;  but  if  all  men  practiced  it,  how  else  would 
there  be  souls  to  save  and  God  be  glorified  in 

248 


A  WEDDING  AT  SAN  ANTONIO 

the  multitude  of  his  saints?  Padre  Tomas  was 
reputed  to  have  contributed  something  to  that 
end. 

Jacinta  lay  on  her  bed  shaken  with  dry  sob 
bing.  Hot  flushes  sickened  through  her  as  she 
recalled  the  Senora  Romero's  pointed  advice  and 
sly  allusions.  In  the  weeks  that  followed  she  was 
likely  to  learn  the  use  of  blushes  and  tears  and 
other  woman's  gear. 

Isidro  rode  straight,  with  Arnaldo  at  his  back, 
to  the  place  of  the  Grapevine,  reaching  it  on  the 
afternoon  of  the  second  day's  riding.  He  meant 
to  have  some  plain  talk  with  the  old  trapper,  get  a 
name  for  his  wife  and  some  satisfaction  for  his 
chafed  dignity  over  the  affair  of  Juan  Ruiz,  in 
which  you  will  remember  Lebecque  was  named  a 
witness. 

Trusting  to  Arnaldo's  knowledge  of  trails,  they 
left  the  traveled  road,  el  camino  real  of  that 
time,  and  went  easily  by  a  scantly  wooded  hill 
and  a  wide  mesa,  windy  and  high.  This  saved 
horseflesh,  but  gained  them  nothing  in  time,  for, 
arriving  early  in  the  afternoon,  they  found  Le- 
becque  from  home.  Isidro  sat  in  the  shade  of  the 

249 


ISIDRO 

vines  and  smoked  cigarettes.  The  place  and  the 
hour  gave  him  a  touch  of  homesickly  longing  for 
the  spirited,  shy  lad,  mixed  with  the  haunting  re 
minder  of  pale  beauty  in  a  frame  of  smoke-black 
hair. 


XVIII 

A  COLD  TRAIL 

jHEN  Valentin  Delgado  left  Mon 
terey  he  went  straight  to  Santa 
Barbara,  carrying  urgent  letters 
from  Saavedra  and  the  Coman- 
dante.  With  these  he  quartered 
himself  at  the  Mission,  and  set  about  providing  a 
daughter  for  Castro,  an  heir  for  the  Ramirez 
fortune,  and  a  wife  for  himself. 

It  was  a  cold  trail.  The  occasion  ,of  Dona 
Ysabel's  death  was  sixteen,  nearly  seventeen 
years  gone,  and  had  occurred  at  a  time  when 
every  man  dealt  with  trouble  at  his  own  door, 
with  little  attention  to  spare  for  the  affairs  of  his 
neighbors.  Dona  Ysabel  had  kept  matters  close, 
leaning  much  on  the  woman  Elisa,  who  had  been 
her  nurse  and  followed  her  up  from  Mexico. 
Jesus  Castro  was  not  at  that  time  Comandante, 
and  his  family  not  so  much  in  the  public  eye.  Of 
the  few  matrons  then  at  the  Presidio  some  sur- 

251 


ISIDRO 

mised  that  Senora  Castro  had  a  child,  but  believed 
it  to  be  stillborn,  as  might  easily  have  been  the 
case,  for  the  poor  lady  was  known  to  be  ailing. 
It  appeared,  finally,  there  were  but  two  people 
who  had  personal  knowledge  of  the  girl,  if  girl 
it  was,  born  to  Dona  Ysabel :  Padre  Bonaventura, 
at  that  time  resident  at  Santa  Barbara,  now  at 
San  Gabriel,  and  an  Indian  woman,  Louisa,  who 
with  Elisa  constituted  Dona  Ysabel's  household. 
Elisa  was  dead  in  the  same  month  and  of  the 
same  disorder  as  her  mistress  ;  the  other  woman 
was,  if  alive,  nobody  knew  where.  Delgado  went 
and  looked  at  the  tall  cross  which  Castro  had 
caused  to  be  erected  over  his  wife's  grave,  but 
got  nothing  from  that ;  went  and  talked  with  as 
many  as  remembered  the  beautiful  and  unhappy 
Ysabel;  got  plentiful  comment  on  the  relations 
of  Castro  and  his  wife,  but  nothing  more ; 
then,  by  Padre  Garcia's  advice,  went  to  San 
Gabriel. 

Padre  Victorio  Garcia,  resident  at  Santa  Bar 
bara,  was  an  astute  man,  and  knew  his  neophytes 
very  well. 

"  You  can  do  nothing  here/'  he  said  to  Del- 
252 


A   COLD  TRAIL 

gado  ;  "  this  people  cannot  be  made  to  stand  and 
deliver  in  a  court  of  inquiry.  They  are  like  the 
quicksands  that  lie  up  the  coast.  You  throw 
a  stone  and  it  goes  quickly  out  of  sight ;  the 
surface  is  smooth  as  cream,  but  underneath  the 
sand  it  works — works;  if  you  wait  long  enough 
it  will  cast  up  your  stone  again.  So  with  my 
people.  Get  you  to  Padre  Bonaventura ;  I  will 
cast  a  few  stones.  In  time  something  may  be 
brought  to  light,  but  you  must  leave  it  to  me." 

Delgado  went  south,  a  brilliant  figure  trailing 
along  the  hard  wide  path  of  the  King's  Highway. 
He  saw  Padre  Bonaventura,  and  heard  from  him 
what  he  already  knew  from  Castro,  but  with  more 
color  and  detail.  How,  during  the  time  of  the 
pestilence,  there  had  come  a  cry  in  the  night  — 
"though,  indeed,  the  nights  were  like  the  days 
for  labor,"  said  the  Padre  —  to  come  to  a  new 
born  child  that  might  not  live.  He  found  the  child 
at  Dona  Ysabel's  and  baptized  it,  saw  it  carried 
out  of  the  room  by  an  Indian  woman,  and  never 
laid  eyes  on  it  again.  The  mother  he  found  very 
ill,  judged  that  she  had  the  fever  upon  her  at 
that  time.  Some  days  later  he  was  at  her  deathbed, 

253 


ISIDRO 

but  her  confession  was  so  strange  that,  believing 
it  mixed  with  delirium,  he  gave  it  insufficient 
heed,  —  "  for  I  was  much  worn  with  watching, 
and  my  people  died  like  sheep,"  said  the  Padre, 
—  and  in  the  midst  of  confession  she  died.  The 
nurse  Elisa  had  died  the  same  month  without  the 
holy  office,  as  too  many  died  in  that  pestilent 
time.  Afterward  it  was  discovered  that  no  one 
knew  about  the  child,  not  so  much  as  that  there 
had  been  one. 

Delgado  felt  he  had  helped  himself  very  little, 
but  he  stayed  a  while  and  looked  about  him  in 
the  city  of  Our  Lady  Queen  of  the  Angels,  even 
at  that  time  shortened  to  Los  Angeles. 

That  accounts  for  eight  of  the  nineteen  days 
of  his  journeying.  Keturned  to  Santa  Barbara, 
he  found  that  some  of  Padre  Garcia' s  castings 
had  come  up  again.  During  the  time  of  the  pes 
tilence  many  small  parties  of  neophytes  had  taken 
to  the  hills,  hoping  to  escape  it,  but,  carrying  the 
infection  with  them,  spread  it  in  the  wilds.  Later 
the  remnant  came  back  again.  It  was  now  re 
ported  that  the  woman  Louisa  had  been  one  of 
these  fugitives. 

254 


,      A  COLD  TKAIL 

"  Had  she  a  child  ?  "  cried  Delgado. 

"  No,"  said  the  Padre,  —  "  no  child,  but  her 
sister  had." 

"Well  —  "  began  the  youth. 

Padre  Garcia  held  up  his  hand.  "  I  have  ex 
amined  the  records  of  the  Mission,  which  were 
regularly  kept  except  for  the  time  that  the  fever 
raged  highest,  and  I  find  that  this  sister  —  Juana 
her  name  was  —  had  indeed  a  child  of  her  own, 
a  boy ;  but  I  find  that  about  ten  days  before 
the  death  of  Senora  Castro  that  child  also  died 
at  the  age  of  four  months." 

"  You  think,  then  "  —  Delgado  began. 

"  I  think,  my  son,  we  will  wait ;  the  stones  are 
not  all  in." 

Delgado  waited  and  looked  about  him.  It 
seemed  impossible  that  the  child  could  be  alive, 
or  if  alive  that  they  could  find  it  again,  or  if 
found,  it  should  prove  Ysabel's  child,  —  three 
good  chances  that  he  must  make  another  cast 
at  fortune ;  and  while  he  looked  at  the  Mission 
stock  and  fields,  speculating  what  pickings  there 
would  be  when  these  were  removed  from  the  care 
of  the  Franciscans  to  the  civil  power,  Padre  Gar- 

255 


ISIDRO 

cia  brought  him  news.  One  of  the  neophytes, 
who  had  been  a  renegade  in  the  hills  three  years 
since,  reported  having  seen  the  woman  Juana 
with  a  French  trapper  in  the  wooded  regions  of 
the  Salinas. 

"Stale  news,"  said  Delgado;  "and  the  child?" 
The  Indian  remembered  to  have  seen  none. 
"  Bad  news/'  said  Delgado  again  ;  but  with 
it  he  made  an  end  of  Padre  Garcia's  meddling 
with  the  affair,  and  set  out  with  an  Indian  packer 
and  a  guide  to  look  for  a  French  trapper  with  an 
Indian  wife  northward  in  the  Salinas  hills.  He 
meant  to  find  a  daughter  for  Castro  in  any  event. 
There  were  not  so  many  people  answering  to  that 
description  that  he  was  likely  to  go  far  afield. 
He  left  the  main  road,  struck  into  white,  shallow 
trails,  followed  them  until  they  ran  into  springs 
or  melted  in  wind-shifted  sand ;  went  large  and 
wide  of  any  trail,  inquired  of  chance-met  Indians, 
slept  one  night  at  the  Mission  San  Luis  Obispo, 
slept  seven  in  the  open,  struck  false  trails  and 
followed  them  to  confusion.  He  saw  the  young 
quail  come  trooping  down  to  springs  in  the  gray 
morning,  saw  the  young  fawns  hidden  by  their 

256 


A  COLD  TRAIL 

mothers  in  long  grass,  saw  a  great  tawny  cougar 
laid  asleep  on  a  limb  above  a  slaughtered  deer ; 
he  grew  saddle-weary  and  sore,  tore  his  finery 
in  the  chaparral,  wet  it  at  roaring  fords,  and 
came  out  at  last  at  the  hut  of  the  Grapevine  and 
Peter  Lebecque.  His  dress  was  much  the  worse ; 
he  had  lost  the  air  and  affectation  of  the  capi 
tal;  he  had  a  network  of  fine  wrinkles  about  his 
eyes  from  much  staring  in  the  sun,  all  of  which 
helped  him  with  the  trapper.  Delgado  had  the 
wit  to  deal  openly  with  the  old  man,  told  him 
straightly  who  he  was,  what  he  sought,  and  all 
his  intent  except  marriage,  upon  which  he  would 
in  no  wise  commit  himself  until  he  had  seen 
the  girl.  Lebecque  heard  him,  peering  shrewdly 
from  the  shaggy  pent  of  his  brows,  but  made 
no  offer  to  open  his  own  budget  until  they  had 
eaten  and  had  two  thirds  of  a  bottle  between 
them. 

"  It  is  true,"  he  said,  "  I  am  a  French  trapper, 
and  I  had  a  woman  from  the  Mission  Santa  Bar 
bara." 

"  And  she  had  a  child,  not  yours?  " 

"  She  had  a  child." 

257 


ISIDRO 

«  A  girl?" 

«  A  girl." 

"  Where  is  she  now  ?  " 

"  At  Monterey." 

"  Monterey!    Since  when,  senor?" 

"  A  month  since." 

Delgado  began  to  fret  visibly  at  the  madden 
ing,  slow  dribble  of  the  old  man's  talk.  "  Mon 
terey,  a  month,  impossible  !  It  is  not  three  weeks 
since  I  left  there,  and  neither  Saavedra  nor  the 
Comandante  had  an  inkling  of  it." 

"  Listen,"  said  Lebecque  ;  "  it  is  a  long  story, 
but  if  good  comes  to  the  girl  by  it,  let  it  be. 
Forty  years  I  have  trapped  and  hunted  north 
and  east  in  the  country  of  deep  snows.  But  I 
grow  old,  and  my  bones  ache,  so  I  have  come  to 
this  land  where  the  pelts  are  not  so  good  but  the 
living  easier.  Seventeen  years  ago  I  found  me 
these  hills;  then  I  looked  for  a  woman  and  a 
place  to  build  me  a  house.  I  took  my  time  for 
that."  The  old  man  spoke  slowly,  his  words 
dropped  from  him  like  the  dropping  embers  of 
his  fire,  as  if  each  phrase  lit  for  a  moment  some 
picture  glowing  for  him  in  the  ashes  of  remem- 

258 


A  COLD   TRAIL 

brance.  The  fashion  of  his  speech  altered  as  he 
talked  from  past  to  vivid  present  and  into  the 
past  again  as  the  picture  faded.  "  At  that  time 
I  passed  through  the  hills  that  rise  up  behind  the 
Channel  Waters.  I  was  two  days  out  from  Santa 
Barbara,  meaning  to  go  no  nearer,  for  I  had 
heard  a  waif  word  that  they  had  a  fever  there. 
The  Indians  were  afraid  and  ran  to  the  moun 
tains,  but  the  pestilence  camped  upon  their  trail. 
I  went  still  in  the  wood  and  kept  close,  for  I 
had  no  wish  to  meet  with  them.  Toward  the  end 
of  one  day  I  heard  afar  off  a  strange  mewling 
cry.  Up  to  that  time  I  have  thought  to  know  the 
cry  and  the  talk  of  all  creatures  in  the  wood,  but 
this  is  new  to  me.  All  that  place  was  thick  with 
flowering  scrub,  making  slow  going.  I  kept  on 
in  it,  following  that  cry,  for  I  am  a  fool  and 
know  not  the  cry  of  my  own  kind.  It  grows 
dusk,  and  I  come  out  at  last  in  a  cleared  place 
under  a  madrono,  and  see  something  move  on 
the  grass  which  makes  that  cry.  I  look  and  find 
it  is  a  babe.  Sacre  dam!  Well,  I  look  about, 
and  across  the  open  place  is  a  dead  woman.  One 
sits  beside  her  that  has  her  head  sunken  on  her 

259 


ISIDRO 

knees,  her  hair  is  fallen  forward  and  has  ashes 
smeared  upon  it.  I  am  not  sure  she  is  not  dead 
also,  but  I  put  my  hand  upon  her  and  she  looks 
up.  I  think  she  has  the  fever  upon  her,  but  pre 
sently  she  makes  the  sign  to  me  for  food,  and  I 
see  that  she  is  starved.  I  had  not  the  speech  of 
the  Channel  Indians,  but  she  had  a  few  words 
of  Spanish,  and  we  made  out  with  that.  After 
she  had  eaten  she  crawled  to  the  child  and  put  it 
to  her  breast,  and  so  told  me  a  little  of  her  con 
dition.  She  was  of  the  Mission  Santa  Barbara, 
she  and  the  dead  woman,  her  sister,  and  five 
others  who  had  come  away  from  the  plague. 
They  had  tried  the  God  of  the  Padres,  but  now 
that  the  sickness  had  come  on  them  they  knew 
that  it  was  not  good.  So  they  would  go  back  to 
their  own  gods,  but  the  Wrath  followed  them. 
Her  sister  had  sickened,  and  the  rest  of  the  party 
had  run  on  in  a  greater  fright.  But  Juana,  my 
woman,  stayed  by  her  sister  three  days  until  she 
died.  Now  she  said  she  would  not  go  back  to 
the  Padres  lest  the  anger  of  her  gods  should 
bring  a  worse  thing  upon  her.  The  God  of  the 
Padres,  she  said,  was  a  great  God,  but  He  could 

260 


A  COLD   TRAIL 

not  keep  off  the  fever.  It  may  be  so  ;  myself  I 
have  no  god.  I  take  my  chances  with  the  beasts 
of  the  field;  gods  are  for  women  and  priests. 
Well,  I  buried  the  dead  woman,  and  Juana,  when 
she  had  eaten  again,  followed  on  my  trail  with 
the  child  ravening  at  her  shrunken  breast ;  for  I 
said,  if  the  fever  will  not  drive  her  from  her  sis 
ter,  will  she  not  be  faithful  to  me  ? 

«  What  else  ?  " 

Lebecque  left  off  his  story  to  sit  with  his 
hands  between  his  knees  ;  all  that  showed  of  him 
was  the  red  spark  of  his  cigarette  winking  in  the 
dark.  Outside  the  moon,  nearing  her  prime, 
flooded  the  swale,  and  made  a  long  bright  splash 
through  the  door,  but  no  smallest  ray  pierced 
the  tight  roof  of  leaves.  The  dogs  whined  in 
dreams  upon  the  floor,  no  shrill  night  insect 
rippled  the  silence,  no  leaf  stirred  the  surface  of 
the  great  lake  of  light  that  lapped  this  lonely 
isle  of  shade. 

Delgado  began  to  move  uneasily. 

"The  child?"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  the  child  !  "  The  old  man  fell  into  the 
drone  of  reminiscence.  "  It  was  a  puling  brat ; 

261 


ISIDRO 

I  saw  soon  enough  that  it  was  no  Indian,  but  I 
supposed  its  father  might  have  been  one  of  the 
gente  de  razon  ;  but  as  I  have  said,  the  woman 
and  I  had  not  much  speech  together.  I  was  so 
much  the  better  suited.  I  saw  that  Juana  wished 
not  to  go  near  the  Mission  again,  and  thought  it 
was  for  fear  of  the  Padres,  but  afterward  I 
understood  that  it  was  on  account  of  the  child. 
By  degrees,  when  the  girl  was  growing  up,  she 
told  me  about  it.  Juana' s  husband  was  employed 
at  the  Presidio,  and  they  did  not  live  in  the 
Mission.  They  had  a  child,  and  a  sister  of  my 
woman  worked  at  the  house  of  one  of  the  officers. 
When  the  fever  came  on  Juana  lost  her  husband 
and  child,  and  at  that  time  her  sister  bade  her 
not  let  the  fountain  of  her  breast  dry  up,  as  her 
mistress  was  about  to  become  a  mother,  and  there 
was  reason  to  believe  she  could  not  nurse  her 
child.  Afterwards  her  sister  came  in  the  night, 
for  the  child  was  born  untimely,  and  the  mother 
had  the  plague.  They  laid  a  vow  upon  her  never 
to  tell  from  whence  she  had  the  brat,  nor  to 
speak  its  name.  So  when  they  came  away  to  the 
mountains,  for  the  mother  died,  her  sister  put  a 

262 


A  COLD  TRAIL 

double  vow  upon  her  never   to  tell,  never  to 
speak  the  name ;  and  she  never  did. 

"  But  did  you  never  think  ?  " 

"  Think !  What  should  I  think  ?  I  had  my 
traps  to  think  of.  Juana,  I  know,  thought  it  a 
love  child,  whose  portion  was  disgrace.  I  remem 
ber  she  said  the  lady's  husband  was  from  home. 
But  at  the  last  my  woman  was  troubled  in  mind 
in  her  dying  sickness;  it  was  then  she  told  me 
most;  she  wished  to  have  a  priest,  but  before 
an  Indian  could  be  found  to  fetch  one  she  was 
dead." 

"  And  the  child?  "  insisted  Delgado. 

"  The  child.  Yes.  As  she  knew  her  to  be 
baptized,  Juana  would  never  give  her  another 
name,  only  such  foolish  woman's  talk  as  Sweet- 
water,  Bright  Bird,  Honey-flower;  but  as  she 
grew  and  proved  to  have  a  pricking  tongue  we 
called  her  the  Briar.  It  was  a  good  name.  Well, 
she  grew  into  a  slim  maid,  and  a  month  since  I 
sent  her  to  Monterey  to  the  Father  President." 

"  The  Father  President  is  at  Carmelo,"  said 
Delgado.    "  But  were  there  no  marks,  nothing 
by  which  she  should  be  known  ?  " 
263 


ISIDRO 

"  There  was  a  packet,  papers,  I  think,  but  in 
the  Spanish,  which  if  I  make  shift  to  speak  I 
have  no  skill  to  read.  She  is  in  Monterey  by 


now." 


That  was  as  much  as  Lebecque  would  say  and 
as  much  as  Delgado  wanted.  He  itched  to  be 
on  the  road.  If  the  girl  had  gone  to  Saavedra, 
she  would  by  him  be  made  known  to  Castro,  and 
the  young  man  lose  that  advantage.  He  must  be 
forward  now  with  his  corroborative  narrative  if 
he  wished  to  continue  in  the  affair.  There  must 
be  two  or  three  young  men  in  Monterey  ready 
to  pay  court  in  any  promising  quarter  if  Del 
gado  were  not  there  with  his  modish  airs  to  put 
them  out  of  countenance.  He  was  silent  a  long 
time,  considering  his  advantage.  As  for  Le- 
becque,  it  had  given  him  a  start  to  learn  that 
the  girl  had  not  been  heard  of  in  Monterey,  par 
ticularly  that  he  had  gotten  out  of  the  young 
man  unawares  that  Escobar  had  arrived,  and 
Delgado  had  met  him  there.  If  the  girl  was 
Castro's  daughter,  and,  putting  the  young  man's 
account  with  his,  it  looked  to  be  a  fact,  why  had 
not  the  papers  revealed  it  ?  Long  practice  of 

264 


A  COLD  TRAIL 

cunning  against  suspicious  creatures  of  the  wood 
had  made  the  trapper  cunning  with  his  own 
kind.  Escobar  had  not  known  when  he  left  the 
Grapevine  that  El  Zarzo  was  a  maid.  But  how 
if  he  had  found  it  out  ?  Or  Saavedra  might  be 
keeping  the  girl  in  the  background  for  Jesuitical 
purposes  of  his  own.  Priests,  thought  Lebecque, 
might  be  caught  at  such  tricks.  Again,  it  might 
be  that  the  packet  had  told  nothing,  or  that 
the  girl,  who  was  not  without  wit,  might  have 
reasons  of  her  own  for  keeping  a  still  tongue. 
The  old  trapper  had  knowledge  that  the  girl 
would  not  be  helped  by  Delgado's  knowing  that 
she  had  traveled  up  to  Monterey  with  Escobar  in 
a  boy's  disguise,  —  good  enough  reason  for  say 
ing  nothing.  Better  reason,  if  reason  were  want 
ing,  in  not  knowing  how  matters  really  stood 
with  the  girl.  More  business  was  marred  by  too 
much  talking  than  by  too  little.  The  trapper 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  next  morning 
watched  Delgado  strike  out  toward  the  Mission 
road,  and  San  Antonio  de  Padua,  where  he  would 
sleep  the  second  night.  Lebecque  was  glad  to 
see  him  go.  Since  El  Zarzo  had  left  him  the  old 

265 


ISIDRO 

trapper  had  the  minding  of  the  flocks,  and  found 
it  little  suited  to  a  man  of  his  quick  and  restless 
habit.  His  natural  grumpiness,  startled  out  of 
him  by  Delgado's  news  of  the  night  before,  re 
turned  upon  him  with  the  light,  and  prompted 
him  to  one  rankling  shaft  which,  though  it  was 
directed  toward  establishing  the  girl's  identity, 
was  planted  in  Delgado's  mind. 

"  Senor,"  he  said,  when  Delgado  was  up  in 
saddle,  and  the  flock  fretting  for  the  start,  "  if 
the  girl  is  not  immediately  found,  inquire  of 
Senor  Escobar ;  he  may  be  able  to  tell  you  some 
what." 

"  Now,  what  in  the  saint's  name  do  you  mean 
by  that  ? "  cried  Delgado ;  and  he  was  half  in 
mind  to  stop  and  force  an  explanation  ;  but  the 
blether  of  the  sheep  rose  up  and  cut  off  his 
words. 

Escobar,  working  across  the  hills  by  a  little- 
used  trail,  failed  to  meet  Delgado,  and  dropped 
from  it  into  the  canon  of  the  Grapevine  the  day 
following,  in  the  early  afternoon.  Lebecque  was 
out  with  the  flock.  Isidro  sat  in  the  shadow  of 

266 


A   COLD   TRAIL 

the  hut,  and  recalled  how  he  had  first  seen  it 
and  in  what  company.  As  often  as  he  thought 
of  the  Briar  his  heart  warmed  toward  the  lad,  — 
always  the  lad,  —  never  the  cold,  still  girl  hy 
the  pomegranate  hedge  in  San  Antonio.  Toward 
evening  he  heard  the  sheep  working  up  by  the 
creek,  —  soft  bleating  and  the  barking  of  the 
dogs,  mixed  with  the  noise  of  the  water  roaring 
out  of  the  gap.  It  served  to  cover  the  light, 
accustomed  step  of  Lebecque  as  he  came  around 
the  corner  of  the  hut  and  stood  looking  down  at 
him  with  beady,  querulous  eyes.  The  contained, 
curt  speech  of  trappers  and  mountaineers,  and 
such  folk  as  live  much  out  of  doors,  is  not  al 
ways  to  be  accounted  for  as  lack  of  breeding, 
but  rather  the  gain  of  that  swift  sense  that 
seizes  upon  realities.  Not  requiring  the  accus 
tomed  approaches  of  polite  greetings,  Lebecque 
did  not  use  them.  His  glance  took  in  the  hand 
some,  indolent  length  of  the  young  man,  and 
much  more  beside.  Said  he  :  — 

"  What  have  you  done  with  her  ?  " 

"Married  her,"  said  the  youth. 

"By  the  Sacrament?" 
267 


ISIDRO 

"  By  the  offices  of  Holy  Church/'  said  Isidro. 

Said  Lebecque,  "  When  ?  " 

"  Yesterday  at  Mission  San  Antonio." 

"  Where  is  she,  then  ?  "  asked  the  old  man. 

"  There,  at  San  Antonio." 

"  And  you  —  are  here  "  — 

Lebecque  looked  him  up  and  down.  Then  he 
took  off  his  cap,  which  was  of  wild  skin  with  the 
tail  hanging  down ;  he  made  a  low  bow. 

"  Sefior,  permit  me,"  he  said ;  "  you  are  a 
beautiful  fool."  With  that  he  turned  heel  and 
was  off  to  his  flock.  Isidro' s  good  humor  was 
proof  against  this.  He  smoked  cigarettes  and 
waited  for  the  sun  to  go  down.  Lebecque  came 
back  after  a  while  and  raked  up  the  ashes  of 
his  fire. 

"  Since  when  have  you  known  her  a  maid  ?  " 
said  he. 

"  Since  Mascado  ran  away  with  her." 

"  What  —  what !  Did  he  dare  ?  The  rascally 
half-breed,  the  "  —  Lebecque's  epithets  were,  no 
doubt,  permissible  in  his  time.  He  choked  and 
gasped.  "  Did  he  harm  her  ?  Did  he  lay  hands 
on  her  ?  " 

268 


A   COLD   TRAIL 

"  I  saw  to  it  that  he  did  not." 

"  Tell  me/'  said  Lebecque. 

Tsidro  gave  him  an  account  of  the  affair  at 
Las  Chimineas.  The  old  man  shook  with  laugh 
ter  between  fits  of  rage. 

"  But  you  did  wrong,  senor ;  you  should  have 
killed  him,"  said  he. 

Isidro  let  him  believe  that  he  had  first  discov 
ered  the  boy  to  be  a  girl  in  the  meadow  of  the 
chimneys.  Now  that  she  was  his  wife  he  shrank 
from  mentioning  the  encounter  with  Delfina. 

Lebecque  warmed  to  him  so  much  for  his  vic 
tory  over  Mascado  that  he  out  with  Delgado's 
story  and  his  own,  putting  them  together  con 
vincingly.  Isidro  took  it  all  easily  enough,  as 
one  accustomed  to  the  favor  of  gods  ;  no  doubt 
he  thought  he  deserved  it.  His  marriage  took 
on  the  color  of  romance,  to  which  his  facile  mind 
shaped  itself.  He  began  to  picture  how  he  should 
deliver  the  girl  to  the  Comandante,  with  what 
circumstance  and  what  an  air.  Lebecque,  watch 
ing  him,  began  to  snort  with  impatience. 

"  Senor,"  he  said,  "  permit  me  again  ;  you  are 
a  fool.  Here  is  Don  Valentin  gone  to  Monterey 

269 


ISIDRO 

with  the  news  to  spread  it  all  abroad.  Here  are 
you  departed,  by  your  own  account  with  scant 
leave,  into  the  hills  with  the  girl.  Who  knows 
that  she  is  still  a  maid  ?  Who  knows  that  you 
have  married  her,  —  and  deserted  her  at  the 
altar?  You,  also,  by  your  own  account,  in  the 
way  of  being  a  priest!  All  Monterey  will  be 
humming  like  a  hive.  Think  you  Castro  will 
thank  you  for  this,  or  Saavedra?  Best  get  you 
back  to  your  wife  and  to  Monterey  with  all 
speed.  By  the  mass,  but  you  will  find  a  hornet's 
nest  if  you  are  overlong  on  the  road." 

Escobar  saw  the  force  of  that.  If  he  would 
make  this  marriage  perform  the  service  he  in 
tended  in  saving  the  girl's  good  name,  he  must 
be  forehanded  with  his  news.  By  the  break  of 
day  he  was  out  with  Arnaldo  beating  about  for 
a  trail  which  should  take  them  a  short  cut  to 
Monterey.  His  wife  he  thought  safe  in  person 
at  San  Antonio.  To  save  her  reputation  he  rode 
to  Saavedra  at  Carmelo. 


XIX 


THE  CAPTURE 

KOM  Peter  Lebecque's  hut  and 
the  Canada  de  las  Vinas  Isidro 
and  the  tracker  climbed  up  stead 
ily  by  the  swelling  hill-front,  see 
ing  the  isle  of  vines  dwindle  and 
shrink  at  the  bottom  of  the  swale.  The  spring, 
which  had  been  a  lusty  beauty  when  Isidro  rode 
first  through  that  country,  was  now  running  fast 
to  seed.  No  rains  would  come  that  way  again 
for  a  good  three  quarters  of  a  year.  Wild  oats 
and  alfilaria  curled  sun-cured  on  the  eastward 
slopes ;  stubbly  growth  of  shrubs  on  the  west, 
favored  a  little  by  far-blown  dampness  of  the  sea, 
hinted  at  their  ashy  midsummer  hue.  Streams 
rippled  shallowly  at  the  fords;  young  of  wild 
creatures  of  that  season's  litter  began  to  run 
freely  in  the  chaparral.  The  trail  went  sidling 
on  the  flanks  of  the  hills,  and  at  each  upward 
turn  flung  them  a  wider  arc  of  boss  and  hollow, 

271 


ISIDRO 

drowned  by  a  blue  mistiness  that  thickened  on 
level  mesas  to  the  waters  of  mirage.  The  crests 
of  the  hills  were  mostly  bare  to  the  windy  flood 
of  cooler  air,  but  a  wood  of  oaks,  buckeye,  and 
madrono  swept  about  their  bases  and  lapped  up 
ward  in  sheltered  coves  along  the  water  courses. 
Their  outlines  showed  dim  and  indistinguishable 
through  the  haze,  like  clumps  of  weed  at  the 
bottom  of  full,  still  bays  of  sea  water.  Out  of 
one  of  the  pools  of  leafage  which  lay  below 
them,  and  yet  overlooked  in  its  turn  a  consid 
erable  stretch  of  sunken  rolling  land,  rose  up 
a  column  of  thin  smoke,  pale  against  the  dark 
blueness  of  the  wood. 

"  Indians  at  last,"  said  Isidro.  "  I  began  to 
think  it  true,  what  I  heard  at  San  Antonio,  that 
they  had  left  this  country  to  harbor  with  Urbano 
in  the  Tulares.  And  look,  another."  Faint  and 
far  the  second  wisp  of  smoke  rose  up  straightly 
and  fanned  out  into  the  still  atmosphere.  The 
next  turn  of  the  trail  showed  them  a  third. 

"  Signal  fires,"  said  Arnaldo.  "  Now  what  the 
devil  will  they  be  about  ?  " 

By  the  middle  of  the  hot  morning  the  riders 
272 


THE  CAPTURE 

had  sighted  five  pillars  of  white  smoke  that 
neither  increased  nor  grew  less,  but  welled  up 
from  steadily  tended  fires,  wagged  a  little  at  the 
impulse  of  an  unfelt  wind,  broke  high  up  against 
a  level  of  cooler  air,  and  rolled  out  along  the  sky. 
Later  in  the  day  Arnaldo  pointed  out  a  party  of 
Indians  in  hunting  gear  on  the  trail  below  them, 
but  when  the  two  men  came  up  to  the  place  the 
hunters  had  melted  like  quail  into  the  chaparral. 

They  rode  all  that  breathless  morning,  follow 
ing  the  looping  and  sagging  of  a  shallow  trail, 
but  in  the  main  rising  toward  the  crest  of  the 
Santa  Lucia,  and  then  lay  by  for  a  long  siesta 
while  the  horses  fed.  They  made  it  long  by  in 
tention,  purposing  to  ride  by  the  light  of  the 
moon,  which  was  nearing  its  prime  and  rose  early 
on  the  red  track  of  the  sun.  With  this  in  inind 
they  kept  saddle  in  the  pure  pale  twilight  of  high 
altitudes,  and  on  until  the  full  yellow  orb  rose  up 
and  walked  along  the  hills. 

They  rode  through  a  longish  shallow  valley, 
open  in  the  middle  by  a  blind  sunken  water 
course,  but  having  a  thick  strip  of  wood  along  the 
bases  of  the  hills.  Shortly  before  moonrise,  while 

273 


ISIDRO 

the  earth  under  foot  still  melted  into  dusk,  and 
the  sky  whitened  to  the  nearing  light,  they  be 
came  aware  of  a  flutter  and  a  hint  of  motion,  a 
whisper  and  beat  translating  itself  to  the  sense 
without  sound.  It  came  out  of  the  wood  ahead 
of  them  on  their  right ;  it  seemed  to  roll  along 
the  earth,  and  underlaid,  yet  was  a  part  of,  the 
multitudinous  small  noises  of  the  night.  It  grew 
as  they  gave  it  attention,  and  came  sensibly  from 
a  close-grown  tongue  of  wood  that  ran  into  the 
open  hollow,  and  resolved  itself  into  a  wailing 
croon,  supported  by  a  soft  pounding  pulse  of 
sound.  The  wail  flared  and  waned  and  fell  off 
like  the  flame  of  wood  fire,  glints  of  which  began 
to  show  between  the  close  stems  of  trees.  The 
padding  was  muffled  and  incessant.  The  two  men 
dropped  their  spurs  on  the  saddle-bow ;  they  crept 
forward  until  they  found  a  peephole  in  the  screen 
of  leaves.  In  a  cleared  grassy  place  lit  by  a  brush 
wood  flare  figures  came  and  went  like  puppets 
in  a  showman's  box.  Figures  of  Indians,  naked 
except  for  trappings  of  beads  and  feathers  and 
stripings  of  gaudy-colored  earths.  Huge  coronets 
of  feathers  of  the  chaparral  cock,  the  corredor 

274 


THE   CAPTURE 

del  camino,  surmounted  their  heads  and  streamed 
down  the  naked  backs.  They  wore  kilts  woven  of 
fine  feathers  of  water  fowl ;  necklaces  of  beads, 
bears'  claws,  elks'  teeth,  and  bits  of  bright  shell 
hung  down  over  painted  ribs  and  glittered  inter 
mittently  with  flashes  of  the  fire.  The  earth  under 
their  feet  was  beaten  to  an  impalpable  dust. 

"  Big  Medicine,"  whispered  Arnaldo  under  the 
click  of  rattles  and  the  steady  drum  of  heels. 
Flashes  from  the  fire  showed,  besides  the  dan 
cers,  circles  of  squatting  savages  whose  spirits, 
raised  by  the  hypnotic  movement  and  beat  of  the 
ceremonial  dance,  fluttered  in  their  throats.  Ar 
naldo  the  tracker  drew  Isidro  softly  by  the  sleeve 
and  backed  away  toward  the  horses. 

"  What  do  you  think  ?"  whispered  Escobar. 

"  Devil's  work,"  said  Arnaldo,  and  crossed  him 
self  as  a  good  Christian  ;  after  which  he  delivered 
himself  as  a  man  of  sense.  "  It  is  not  the  time 
of  their  regular  dances.  If  they  do  it  now  it  is 
because  they  have  some  business  afoot." 

"  Think  you  they  were  Urbano's  men  ?  " 

"  Who  else  ?  One  was  the  renegade  Manuel ; 
I  knew  him  ;  and  he  that  had  the  feather  coat  on 

275 


ISIDRO 

his  shoulders  was  a  Channel  Indian.  Three  others 
were  Tuolomnes.  Where  else  will  you  find  the 
slum  of  all  the  tribes  except  with  Urbano  ?  They 
are  not  drawn  together  by  love  of  each  other,  but 
for  love  of  mischief." 

"What  can  they  do?" 

"  Set  on  some  silly  shepherds  with  their  sheep, 
run  off  a  few  of  the  Mission  beeves,  entice  a  few 
neophytes  from  the  Missions."  Arnaldo  had  not 
a  great  opinion  of  the  native  tribes  of  Alta  Cali 
fornia.  They  let  the  priests  sit  too  easily  on  their 
necks,  and  were  frightened  by  the  popping  of 
firecrackers. 

The  two  men  rode  on  in  the  trail,  and  the  moon 
rose  new  washed  from  the  sea.  The  trail  lay 
mostly  in  open  ground  and  was  not  hard  to  seek. 
Twice  in  the  fringe  of  the  woods  they  saw  lights 
low  and  twinkling  on  the  ground. 

"  We  must  by  all  means  keep  on  until  we  have 
crossed  the  ridge  out  of  this  country,"  said  Ar 
naldo.  "  To-night  they  are  busy  with  dancing, 
but  to-morrow  they  may  take  a  notion  to  stop  us, 
particularly  if  they  mean  raiding  in  the  direction 
of  Soledad  or  Santa  Cruz." 

276 


THE  CAPTURE 

Isidro  had  no  mind  for  such  an  interruption 
to  his  affairs.  They  kept  on  after  this  until  they 
struck  the  wood  again  and  the  beginning  of  ris 
ing  ground.  Here  they  dismounted,  for  the  trees 
were  low  and  grew  all  abroad  with  gnarly  boughs. 
The  trail  went  faintly  among  them  with  many 
windings.  Isidro  whistled  softly  to  himself  while 
the  tracker  puzzled  out  the  way. 

"  No  noise,  senor,"  said  the  tracker.  Isidro 
stopped  short.  They  went  on  for  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  in  the  hot  dark.  Outside  of  the  fence  of 
trees  the  earth  was  gloriously  light.  Arnaldo  be 
gan  to  halt  at  intervals  and  make  signs  of  lis 
tening. 

"  Heard  you  anything  ?  "  he  whispered. 

"  A  cricket  chirp  and  a  wakeful  bird." 

"Nothing  else?" 

"  Nothing  else." 

"Move  on  a  little." 

Presently  Isidro  heard.  Out  of  the  dark  a  slow 
padding  on  the  fallen  leaves  seemed  to  follow 
them.  They  stopped,  it  stopped;  they  went  on, 
it  began  again, —  a  mere  whisper  of  sound. 

"  Man  or  beast  ?  "  Isidro  asked. 
277 


ISIDRO 

" Dios  sdbe"  shrugged  the  Indian.  They 
went  on  steadily  for  another  quarter  of  an  hour 
and  heard  no  more  of  it. 

"  It  must  have  been  a  bobcat  or  cougar/'  said 
Escobar. 

"  Perhaps  so ;  keep  as  much  in  the  shadow 
as  you  may." 

Where  the  wood  was  thin  and  straggling  it 
was  clearly  no  night  for  men  who  must  make  way 
cautiously  to  be  abroad  in.  Bounding  a  blunt 
cape  of  hills  they  came  suddenly  on  a  camp  of  a 
dozen  savages  asleep,  or  smoking  and  a-doze. 
Arnaldo's  horse  knew  the  trick  of  stillness  fol 
lowing  a  certain  touch  on  his  shoulder ;  but  the 
other,  winded  a  little,  for  the  ground  rose  steeply, 
drew  in  his  breath  until  the  saddle-girth  creaked. 
Several  of  the  Indians  sat  up  alert,  but  a  ruffle 
of  wind  among  the  leaves  smothered  all  smaller 
sounds  and  covered  the  retreat  of  the  horsemen. 
Now  they  were  forced  out  of  the  trail  and  went 
heavily  through  the  brush,  smelling  trouble  on 
all  sides.  A  group  of  ponies  feeding  in  a  mea 
dow  snorted  recognition  to  their  horses,  and  got 
a  smothered  whinny  in  return.  Arnaldo  swore. 

278 


THE  CAPTURE 

Isidro,  never  so  merry  as  when  he  had  need  of 
all  his  wits,  laughed  under  his  breath. 

"  No  laughing  matter/'  said  the  tracker ; 
"there  must  be  threescore  of  the  swine  here 
abouts.  They  might  object  to  you  getting  on 
to  Monterey." 

"  What  will  we  do  ?  " 

"  What  we  can ;  just  ahead  of  us  is  a  good 
level  stretch  ;  make  the  most  of  it." 

They  put  their  horses  at  a  jogging  trot ;  this 
lasted  until  the  close  growth  of  scrub  and  trees 
forced  them  to  a  slower  pace.  Instantly  the  long 
padding  tread  came  out  of  the  dark,  following. 
It  was  light  on  the  grass,  but  not  so  light  that 
no  twig  snapped  under  it  and  no  leaf  rustled. 
Now  and  then  they  heard  the  swish  of  a  bent 
bough  springing  back  to  place. 

"  Bungling  work,"  said  the  tracker ;  then  he 
laid  hand  lightly  on  the  other's  arm.  Forward  a 
stone-cast,  the  moon  glinted  on  what  was  neither 
leaf,  nor  bark,  nor  stone.  Across  the  grass  the 
broken  and  dappled  light  through  the  latticed 
shadow  of  the  trees  was  cut  off  and  reappeared 
as  under  a  sliding  screen. 

279 


ISIDRO 

"  The  devil !  "  said  Isidro. 

"  Evidently/'  shrugged  the  tracker. 

The  wood  was  full  of  hints  of  presence,  sense 
of  movement,  little  prickings  of  the  flesh,  uneasy 
sniffs  of  the  horses.  The  trail  ran  here  in  an 
easy  swale  narrowly  between  two  great  bluffs  of 
stony  earth.  The  wood,  pinched  to  a  file  of  scant- 
limbed  pines,  ran  between  them  and  spread  into 
a  pool  of  dark  beyond.  The  defile,  opening  to 
ward  the  moon,  was  searched  and  rifled  by  the 
light.  It  was  not  a  bowshot  wide  from  wall  to 
wall.  Beyond  this  a  little  way  lay  an  open  coun 
try  affording  no  cover  for  spies  and  the  chances 
of  swifter  travel  for  the  horses.  Riding  toward 
it  Isidro  and  the  tracker  started  a  herd  of  deer, 
does  with  young  fawns,  feeding  by  a  spring. 
The  does  threw  up  their  heads  to  snuff  the 
tainted  wind  and  began  to  trot  steadily  toward 
the  pass.  But  here  their  fine  sense  served  them, 
and  the  men  behind  them,  an  excellent  turn. 
At  the  mouth  of  the  defile  they  swerved,  halted, 
and  wheeled,  struck  a  brisker  pace,  avoided 
the  pass,  and  disappeared  in  a  dry  gully  toward 
the  hills. 

280 


THE  CAPTUKE 

"  Where  the  deer  will  not  go  there  is  no  going ._ 
for  us,"  said  Arnaldo  ;  "  wait." 

He  flung  off  his  horse  into  t^thickegtfshadow. 
Isidro  held  both  bridle  reins  and  waited,  heard  a 
night  bjrd  call  and  the  wind  tread  lightly  on  the 
crealypg  boughs  of  pines,  saw  the  shadows  shrink 
as  the  moon  rode  higher,  saw  small  furry  things 
come  out  in  the  light  and  play ;  at  last  saw  the 
tracker  rise  up  out  of  the  dark  without  a  sound. 

"Well?" 

"  Senor,  you  wish  to  get  to  Monterey  with  all 
speed  ?  " 

Isidro  thought  of  the  case  in  which  he  stood, 
—  of  his  breach  of  behavior  to  Saavedra,  of  Del- 
gado  hurrying  to  the  Comandante,  of  Delfina  — 
"  By  the  mass,  yes !  "  he  cried. 

"  Do  as  I  say,  then,"  said  Arnaldo ;  "  the 
moon  is  too  much  for  us."  He  led  the  horses 
with  unconcern  back  to  the  spring  where  the  deer 
had  been  drinking  and  threw  off  the  saddles. 

"  Make  as  if  to  camp,"  he  said,  "  and  lie  down 
as  if  to  sleep,  but  do  not  sleep  ;  keep  your  pistol 
close." 

They  lay  down  to  watch  the  ebb  of  the  moon- 
281 


ISIDRO 

light  and  the  slow  oncoming  of  the  tide  of  shadow 
that  reached  its  flood  some  hours  before  dawn. 
They  heard  no  more  of  any  Indians,  but  no  deer 
came  that  way,  by  which  they  judged  there  must 
be  men  about  in  the  canon  below  them  and  in 
the  pass  above.  When  the  moon  was  low  and 
the  black  splotches  of  forest  began  to  run  to 
gether  in  the  bottoms  of  the  canons  drenched  in 
shadow,  they  began  to  move  again  with  incredi 
ble  stillness,  drawing  out  of  the  wood  toward  the 
bare  slopes  of  hill  up  the  gully  by  which  the 
deer  had  gone.  Nothing  moved  behind  them  but 
the  light  wind  in  the  leaves  ;  before  them  they 
had  the  steep  tireless  scarp  of  the  hill.  They 
would  ride  a  little,  and  then  Arnaldo  would  quest 
forward  on  his  feet  a  little,  exploring  the  way, 
incredibly  tedious,  but  they  had  no  serious  im 
pediment.  Once  Isidro's  horse  struck  a  loose 
stone  that  went  rolling  and  rattling  to  the  bot 
tom  of  the  hill  with  a  small  avalanche  of  coarse 
gravel  and  set  their  hearts  pounding  with  appre 
hension,  but  no  alarm  followed  it.  They  came  at 
last  to  open  country  about  moonset,  found  it  firm 
under  foot  and  admitting  of  some  speed.  They 

282 


THE  CAPTURE 

began  to  go  down  presently,  and  by  dawn  had 
come  to  clumps  of  thin  pines  and  dwarfish  oaks. 
They  rode  and  saw  deer  bedded  unstartled  in  the 
fern,  and  all  the  ease  of  wild  life,  warrant  that 
no  men  had  lately  passed  that  way.  A  million 
wild  pigeons  began  to  stir  and  voice  the  bluish 
light  of  dawn ;  their  calls  and  the  incessant 
rustle  of  their  wings  rolled  together  like  soft 
thunder  among  the  trees.  The  two  men  pushed 
their  jaded  horses,  breakfasting,  without  light 
ing,  on  jerke  of  wild  venison  which  they  had 
from  Peter  Lebecque,  reached  the  foot  of  the 
grade,  struck  the  level  of  a  valley,  crossed  it 
three  hours  after  sunrise,  and  in  the  hot  palpi 
tant  forenoon  began  to  wind  and  turn  in  the  in 
tricate  shallow  canons  of  low  hills.  They  had 
come  upon  no  camps  nor  fresh  trail  of  Indians, 
saw  no  signal  fires  nor  any  sign  of  pursuit ;  not 
so  much  as  a  crow  flapped  or  a  jay  squawked 
suspiciously  away  from  the  trail. 

"The  rogues  are  behind  us,"  said  Arnaldo, 
(( we  have  thrown  them  off  our  trail ;  neverthe 
less,  we  must  get  on  to  Monterey.  We  shall 
have  a  word  for  the  Comandante." 

283 


ISIDRO 

"  What  word  ?  "  said  Escobar,  thinking  of  his 
own  affair. 

"  There  were  no  women  among  them.  Some 
of  them  had  guns ;  they  have  been  trading  with 
the  Russians.  It  will  take  more  than  holy  water 
to  keep  these  bears  away  from  the  calf -pens  of 
the  Padres/'  Arnaldo  chuckled. 

66  Do  you  think  they  are  for  San  Antonio  ?  " 

"  That  or  Soledad ;  they  might  reach  either 
easily  from  where  they  are  now  camped.  They 
may  have  accomplices  among  the  Mission  neo 
phytes.  The  word  that  has  gone  about  that  the 
Padres  are  to  be  sent  out  of  the  country  has 
bred  maggots  in  their  heads." 

"  And  what,"  said  Isidro,  "  if  that  word  were 
true?" 

"  Eh/'  said  the  tracker,  "  they  are  swine ;  they 
will  return  to  root  in  the  earth  where  they  were 
bred." 

"They  have  been  made  Christians,  and  the 
Padres  have  taught  them  to  save  their  souls  from 
hell,"  said  the  young  gentleman,  who  still  had 
thoughts  of  becoming  a  padre  himself. 

Arnaldo  showed  a  dry  and  twinkling  mirth. 
284 


THE  CAPTURE 

"  Manuel/'  he  said,  "  was  a  Christian.  I  re 
member  an  Easter  when  he  served  the  mass. 
That  was  he  you  saw  last  night,  with  the  rattle 
of  ram's  horn  and  a  bear's  teeth  grinning  on  his 
shoulders." 

They  were  both  beginning  to  weary  of  the 
ride.  The  horses  drooped  and  looked  hungrily 
at  the  grass  by  the  water  courses.  The  air  in 
the  close  little  canons  was  still  and  hot. 

"  Dios !  but  I  could  sleep,"  cried  Escobar, 
yawning. 

"  Sleep,  then,"  said  the  tracker ;  "  here  is 
feed  for  the  horses." 

They  unsaddled,  set  the  horses  to  the  stake 
rope,  crept  themselves  under  the  low  screen  of  a 
live  oak  that  dropped  its  branches  to  the  ground. 
The  hills  were  sunk  in  a  midday  drowse.  That 
was  a  time  when,  except  for  some  such  seldom 
mischance  as  had  fallen  to  them  the  night  before, 
a  man  might  lie  down  and  sleep  under  any  tree 
in  Alta  California,  and  take  no  account  of  risk 
or  time.  As  the  mood  of  the  land  never  swayed 
much  between  the  extremes  of  heat  and  cold, 
fury  and  calm,  it  bred  even  in  its  savage  races/ 

285 


ISIDRO 

an  equable  and  tractile  mind.  If  the  Franciscans 
found  great  scope  for  material  advantage  they 
found  little  for  martyrdom.  It  is  a  tradition 
that  bullocks'  blood  went  to  the  cementing  of 
adobe  foundations,  but  little  was  shed  of  another 
sort. 

Isidro  and  the  tracker  had  expected  no  harm 
the  night  before  but  an  annoying  detention  and 
interruption  to  the  former's  affairs;  therefore 
they  slept  heavily,  that  danger  over,  and  woke 
past  noon  to  find  Mascado  sitting  over  them, 
very  still,  with  Escobar's  pistols  laid  across  his 
knees. 


XX 

IN  WHICH  JACINTA  RIDES  TO 
MONTEREY 

HE  Franciscans  of  Alta  California 
in  the  year  when  Isidro  Escobar 
should  have  begun  his  novitiate  sat 
tight,  kept  the  affairs  of  the  Mis 
sions  in  close  order,  and  prayed  or  plotted, 
as  their  vocation  lay,  against  the  decree 
of  secularization.  The  prayers,  it  seemed, 
found  no  advocate.  The  plots,  like  that  of 
Saavedra's  for  turning  the  family  of  Esco 
bar  to  priestly  use,  took  a  color,  perhaps,  from  the 
lotus-eating  land,  were  large  and  easy  and  too  long 
in  execution.  For  the  most  part  they  kept  a  quiet 
front  in  California,  and  trusted  to  the  Brother 
hood  in  Old  Mexico.  At  that  time  of  tedious  com 
munication  it  was  hardly  possible  for  the  Padres 
of  the  Missions  to  know  how  nearly  their  college 
of  San  Fernando  was  demolished  by  the  unfriendly 
Kepublic.  The  possibility  of  swift  revolution  that 

287 


ISIDRO 

harbors  in  Latin  blood,  their  faith  in  St.  Francis, 
strengthened  by  long  immunity  amid  conflicting 
decrees,  prompted  to  a  cheerful  view  ;  but  being, 
on  the  whole,  accustomed  to  let  no  event  meet 
them  unprepared,  they  made  ready  for  seculariza 
tion,  in  case  they  found  no  way  of  avoiding  it, 
according  to  their  several  notions.  It  was  believed 
in  some  quarters  that  the  Franciscans  were  con 
verting  the  herds  and  flocks  into  coin,  which  was 
sent  out  of  the  country ;  it  was  known  that  others 
went  about  fitting  the  neophytes  for  the  change 
by  new  and  tremendous  labors,  or  by  larger  free 
dom  and  greater  responsibility.  These  are  the 
pipes  of  history,  the  breadth  of  whose  diapason 
sets  many  small  figures  going  to  various  measures 
like  midges  in  the  sun.  They  go  merrily  or 
strenuously,  with  no  notion  of  how  they  are 
blown  upon  ;  but  let  the  great  note  of  history  be 
stilled,  and  they  fall  flat  and  flaccid  out  of  the 
tune  of  time.  If  you  would  know  how  Demetrio 
Fages  and  the  Comandante,  how  Isidro  and  Mas- 
cado,  Peter  Lebecque  and  his  foster  child,  called 
the  Briar,  played  out  their  measure,  you  must 
know  so  much  of  the  note  of  their  time. 

288 


JACINTA   RIDES  TO  MONTEREY 

Chiefly,  then,  you  will  understand  how  Saavedra, 
being  troubled  and  a  little  offended  at  Isidro's 
disappearance  immediately  following  the  Father 
President's  great  labors  in  his  behalf,  could  not 
on  that  account  delay  his  annual  visit  of  coun 
sel  and  inspection  to  the  Missions,  where  affairs 
stood  in  the  case  I  have  stated. 

When  Padre  Saavedra  left  his  conference  with 
Castro  he  looked  about  first  for  the  young  man, 
and  learned  that  he  had  last  been  seen  walking 
upon  the  beach  below  the  town.  The  Padre  him 
self  started  in  that  direction,  saw  only  the  chil 
dren  racing  with  the  tide,  took  a  turn  about  the 
streets,  and  saw  nothing  of  the  young  man,  sent 
Fages,  still  nothing ;  whereupon  he  concluded 
that  Isidro  had  preceded  him  to  Carmelo,  and 
leaving  his  secretary  to  attend  to  some  small 
matters,  rode  back  to  the  Mission.  Here  the  Pa 
dre's  slight  annoyance  grew  into  a  measure  of 
unease  as  the  day  passed  and  no  Escobar.  At 
noon,  when  the  Indians  came  up  from  the  field,  he 
learned  that  two  hours  since  the  youth  had  sent 
for  his  horse  and  saddle ;  reminded  by  that  of 
the  lad  Zarzito,  he  sent  to  seek  him  in  the  hut  of 

289 


ISIDRO 

Marta,  and  learned  that  nothing  had  been  seen 
of  him  since  the  evening  before.  The  report 
served  to  give  an  edge  to  the  Father  President's 
alarm.  Then  about  the  hour  of  vespers  came  the 
secretary  choked  with  news ;  he  could  hardly  de 
liver  it  at  once,  turning  and  smacking  it  upon 
his  tongue.  He  had  been  with  Delfina,  and 
learned  things  of  Escobar  that  fell  in  pat  with 
his  own  desires.  Fray  Demetrio  had  a  dull  sort 
of  climbing  ambition,  which  he  thought  threat 
ened  by  the  proximity  of  the  young  gentleman, 
and  had  the  natural  gratification  of  the  baser 
sort  of  men*  in  seeing  others  brought  down.  As 
he  stood  twiddling  his  thumbs  in  the  presence 
of  Padre  Saavedra,  his  expression  of  pained 
virtuosity  would  have  done  credit  to  the  wooden 
image  of  a  saint. 

Senor  Escobar,  he  said,  had  last  been  seen 
riding  eastward  from  Monterey  in  company  with 
Arnaldo  the  tracker. 

"Heard  you  anything  of  his  errand?" 
The  secretary  cast  up  his  eyes.   "  It  is  thought," 
he  said,  "that  he  rides  upon  the  trail  of  that 
brand  of  the  burning,  Zarzito." 

290 


JACINTA   RIDES  TO   MONTEREY 

"  Ah  yes,  the  Indian  lad ;  what  of  him  ?  He 
has  not  been  seen  since  last  evening." 

The  Padre's  tone  was  one  of  gentle  wonder 
ment.  Fages  took  his  opportunity  deliberately, 
watching  from  under  cover  of  his  stubby  brows. 

"  Your  Reverence,"  said  he,  "  it  is  shown  by 
the  most  credible  of  all  testimony,  an  eye-witness 
in  fact,  that  El  Zarzo  was  taken  forcibly  and  car 
ried  away  by  an  Indian  yesterday  at  dusk  from  the 
beach  below  the  calabozo.  It  is  further  averred 
that  Sefior  Escobar  has  gone  in  search  of  them." 

Saavedra  revolved  this  for  a  little  space ;  he 
was  not  one  to  make  gossip  with  an  underling. 

"  Senor  Escobar  was  concerned  for  the  lad's 
soul,"  he  said  at  last,  "  and  his  zeal  outrunneth 
discretion.  But  strange  that  an  Indian  should  by 
force  carry  off  another  Indian,  especially  a  lad." 

"Especially,"  said  the  secretary,  "if  a  lad." 
The  turn  of  his  voice  upon  the  supposition  was 
slight  but  pregnant.  Saavedra  put  out  his  hand. 
His  instincts  were  quick ;  perhaps  he  had  seen 
Fages  at  mischief  before  now. 

"  Demetrio,  Demetrio,  Demetrio,"  he  said, 
three  times,  and  the  first  was  the  cry  of  his  heart 

291 


ISIDRO 

to  be  spared  unhappy  news,  the  second  was  a 
priestly  reproof  against  malice,  the  last  a  com 
mand. 

The  secretary  understood  that  he  was  now  free 
to  deliver  all  Delfina's  adventure,  a  little  colored 
by  the  tone  of  the  minds  through  which  it  passed. 
The  shame  of  the  whole  relation  he  took  for 
granted ;  as,  in  fact,  did  the  Padre ;  as  any  one 
of  that  time  must  have  done.  Saavedra  was  both 
hurt  and  sick ;  such  duplicity,  —  to  make  him 
self  a  warrant  for  the  girl's  lying  at  his  door, 
the  pretense  of  concern  for  El  Zarzo's  soul ; 
let  alone  his  sacred  calling,  the  boy's  breeding 
should  have  saved  him  from  such  an  offense  to 
hospitality, — the  case  for  Escobar  was  black 
enough  without  that.  Walking  out  in  the  garden 
with  his  deep  concern,  he  passed  the  hut  of  Marta, 
and  paused  before  it. 

"  My  daughter,"  he  said,  "  how  long  have  you 
known  that  El  Zarzo  is  a  girl  ?  " 

The  woman  looked  up  with  something  quick 
and  apprehensive  in  her  eyes.  "  Padre,  from  the 
beginning,"  she  said;  going  on  defensively,  an 
swering  the  rebuke  of  his  gaze,  "  she  was  newly 

292 


JACINTA   RIDES   TO  MONTEREY 

from  the  hills,  she  brought  me  news  of  my  son. 
I  had  not  seen  him  for  two  years/'  she  finished 
simply. 

The  Padre  turned  away,  pacing  slowly  between 
the  vineyard  and  the  pears,  baffled  and  hurt  at 
heart. 

The  next  day,  with  no  further  inquiry  about 
Escobar  and  no  message  left  for  him,  Saavedra 
started  toward  Santa  Cruz,  to  visit  the  missions 
that  lay  northward.  By  so  doing  he  missed  meet 
ing  with  Delgado,  who  came  up  from  San  Anto 
nio  two  days  later  with  the  young  wife  of  Escobar 
in  his  train. 

Valentin  Delgado  could  be  trusted  not  to  miss 
a  pretty  girl  anywhere,  much  more  if  he  found 
her  where  he  had  looked  to  find  only  priests,  a 
corporal,  a  private  soldier  or  two,  and  some  hun 
dreds  of  Indians.  He  saw  her  first  in  the  evening 
glow  walking  in  the  pomegranate  path  of  the 
Mission  San  Antonio  where  he  had  put  in  for 
the  night.  A  light  wind  shaped  her  clothing  to 
her  young  curves  as  she  walked,  the  rebozo  had 
fallen  back  from  her  head,  her  hands  were  folded 
at  her  throat.  Delgado  arranged  his  cloak,  set 

293 


ISIDRO 

his  hat  a-cock,  and  sought  Padre  Tomas.  In  an 
affair  of  ladies  he  judged  the  round  priest  the 
better  man.  But  what  he  heard  put  all  thoughts 
of  gallantry  out  of  his  mind.  The  slim  crescenf 
beauty  was  no  sefiorita,  but  the  Senora  Escobar. 
That  was  the  name  that  pricked  all  Delgado's 
wits  forward.  "  If  you  do  not  find  her,"  said 
Lebecque,  "  ask  Escobar.'* 

The  whole  story  of  the  virgin  marriage  gushed 
from  Padre  Tomas  of  the  Stripes  like  a  living 
spring,  a  strange  thing  to  tell  and  a  new  ear  to 
hear  it,  following  on  a  comfortable  meal !  He  had 
not  enjoyed  himself  so  much  for  a  long  time. 
The  hour  enticed  to  companionable  talk ;  Indians 
in  the  cloister  began  to  croon  a  hymn.  The  young 
straight  figure  paced  up  and  down  by  the  pome 
granate  hedge  that  stood  out  sharply  against  a 
saffron  sky.  Delgado  drained  the  Padre  dry  of 
news,  learned  how  the  girl  was  no  maid,  being 
married,  and  no  wife,  being  deserted  at  the 
church  door ;  went  so  far  as  to  be  sure  that  the 
Padre  was  sure  the  marriage  was  a  cloak  for  no 
unchastity,  but  no  farther.  Padre  Tomas  knew 
nothing  back  of  the  hour  when  Isidro  and  the 

294 


JACINTA   RIDES   TO   MONTEREY 

girl  came  riding  out  of  the  wood ;  or,  if  he  knew 
it,  kept  it  under  the  seal  of  the  confessional.  The 
young  man  did  not,  therefore,  open  his  own  bud 
get  at  that  time.  He  must  know  how  Escobar  came 
by  the  girl ;  was  she  the  same  reared  by  Peter 
Lebecque's  Indian  wife  in  the  hut  of  the  Grape 
vine,  called,  because  of  her  pricking  tongue,  "  the 
Briar  "  ?  The  Padre  helped  him  there. 

"  And  she  had  not  even  a  name,  this  beautiful 
one ;  yes,  she  is  beautiful ;  even  I,  a  poor  brother 
of  St.  Francis,  can  see  that;  so  we  wrote  in  the 
register  the  name  of  her  foster  father,  Lebecque, 
nothing  more.  The  young  man  was  to  bring  a  name 
on  his  return  ;  that  was  the  purpose  of  his  going, 
that  and  some  business  with  the  Father  Presi 
dent.  So  I  understood.  But  it  was  most  irregu 
lar  ;  Padre  Carrasco  was  of  the  opinion  that  I 
should  have  withheld  the  sacrament.  But  I  hold 
that  since  the  girl  was  plainly  a  Christian  she 
must  have  had  a  name,  though  it  was  for  the 
time  mislaid,  as  you  might  say." 

Still  Don  Valentin  kept  his  thought,  —  took  a 
whole  night,  in  fact,  to  set  it  out  in  his  mind. 
By  morning  he  had  it  shaped  thus :  that,  not  to 

295 


ISIDRO 

be  balked  of  all  reward,  he  would  take  the  girl  to 
her  father ;  and,  as  for  the  un consummated  mar 
riage,  there  might  be  more  doing.  The  girl  was 
still  her  father's  ward,  —  under  age,  married  with 
out  his  consent,  —  ravishment,  married  out  of  her 
name,  —  false  pretense,  only  half  married  at  that ; 
no  knowing  what  might  come  of  it.  The  first 
thing  was  to  get  her  out  of  the  way  of  Escobar, 
who  deserved  it  for  being  a  fool. 

Soon  after  the  hour  of  compline  he  set  Padre 
Tomas's  ears  tingling  with  more  news  than  he  had 
heard  during  his  incumbency  of  San  Antonio. 
Here,  as  at  Peter  Lebecque's,  he  told  his  story 
very  much  to  the  point,  and  so  convincingly  that 
within  half  an  hour  he  had  the  girl  in  to  hear  it 
in  the  Padre's  parlor,  where  the  chief  furniture 
was  plaster  saints  in  niches  blackened  by  candle 
smoke.  She  came  stilly,  keeping  close  by  the 
wall,  a  little  pinched  about  the  mouth,  but  with 
level  eyes,  young  limbs,  lithe  and  quick,  unaccus 
tomed  to  the  trammels  of  her  dress.  The  corporal's 
wife  had  stuck  a  pomegranate  blossom  in  the  smoky 
folds  of  her  hair  ;  it  served  to  warm  a  little  the 
pure  pallor  of  her  skin. 

296 


JACINTA   RIDES   TO   MONTEREY 

"  Eh,  come,  come,  child  !  "  cried  Padre  Tomas 
de  las  Penas  when  he  heard  her  in  the  corridor ; 
"  come  and  see  what  we  have  for  you ;  come  and 
hear  a  tale.  Ah,  ah !  Our  Lady  and  St.  Francis 
have  been  working  for  you.  Is  it  a  name  you 
lack  ?  Well,  you  shall  have  it,  and  not  only  a 
name,  a  most  honorable  name,  but  a  family,  a 
father  in  short,  a  notable  and  worthy  parent,  and 
not  only  a  father,  but  a  fortune,  estates,  immense  ! 
Ah,  all  this  for  a  beautiful  young  woman  who 
has  already  a  handsome  husband  ! "  Delgado 
looked  at  him  rather  sourly  for  this.  The  girl 
simply  stared ;  the  breath  came  through  her 
parted  lips  like  a  child's. 

"  Sit  down,  sit  down  !  "  cried  the  Padre ;  "  you 
shall  hear."  She  sat  on  the  edge  of  the  carved 
bench  boyishly.  The  corporal's  wife  trailed  in 
her  wake  as  a  duena,  plumped  down  beside  her, 
untangled  a  fat  arm  from  her  rebozo,  and  held 
one  of  the  girl's  hands.  It  was  doubtful  if  Ja- 
cinta  understood  all  the  explanations,  but  she 
answered  their  questions  plainly  enough.  She 
was  the  French  trapper's  foster  child.  She  had 
known  that  the  Indian  woman  was  not  her  mo- 

297 


ISIDRO 

ther,  but  she  would  always  call  her  so.  It  was 
her  mother's  wish  that  she  should  go  dressed  as 
a  boy.  In  that  fashion  she  had  left  Canada  de 
las  Uvas  a  month  back.  So  far  she  was  docile 
and  apt,  but  if  they  questioned  her  upon  her  life 
in  Monterey,  and  how  she  came  to  be  riding  into 
San  Antonio  de  Padua  with  Senor  Escobar  from 
an  easterly  direction,  when  Monterey  lay  north 
and  west,  then  she  fell  dumb.  Her  Indian  train 
ing  wiped  all  vestige  of  expression  from  her  face, 
set  her  eyes  roving  past  the  plaster  saints  and 
the  candles,  out  of  the  deep  casement  toward 
the  Mission  fields.  Curious  as  Delgado  and  the 
Padre  both  were,  they  had  to  let  her  be.  The 
young  man,  watching,  thought  her  not  so  much 
cold  as  childish,  immature,  a  great  beauty,  and 
plainly  a  Castro.  The  puzzle  of  the  last  two  days' 
work  had  drawn  proud  lines  of  pain  such  as  he 
knew  in  the  Comandante's  face,  knit  the  fine 
brows,  and  tightened  the  small  mouth.  The  like 
ness  came  out  wonderfully  when  one  looked  for 
it.  But  Don  Valentin  thought  her  what  she  was 
not,  timid  and  awed  by  his  splendid  appearance. 
She  looked  not  so  much  at  him  as  at  his  em- 

298 


JACINTA   RIDES   TO  MONTEREY 

broideries  and  the  turquoise  in  the  cord  of  his 
sombrero.  He  thought  her  dazzled  when,  in  fact, 
the  little  god  of  love  had  made  her  blind.  The 
young  man  took  a  high  hand,  —  the  part  became 
him,  —  showed  letters  from  Castro  delegating 
parental  authority,  required  that  the  girl  be  de 
livered  to  him  and  by  him  to  the  Comandante. 
The  Padre  boggled  at  that ;  the  lady  had  been 
left  expressly  in  his  charge  by  her  husband.  Hus 
band,  ah,  husband,  is  it? 

"  A  word  in  your  ear,  Padre ;  how  can  the 
young  man  be  a  husband  and  he  a  priest  ?  If  not 
actually  beginning  his  novitiate,  at  least  dedicate, 
bound."  Delgado  had  heard  that  story  at  Mon 
terey.  "  Did  he  not  tell  you  at  parting  that  he 
had  business  with  the  Father  President?  Ay, 
truly.  What  sort  of  a  husband  is  it  that  leaves 
his  wife  at  the  altar,  tell  me  that  ?  In  fact,  the 
fellow  dared  go  no  farther."  Under  such  skillful 
handling  the  marriage  assumed  the  proportions 
of  a  crime  with  the  Padre  as  accomplice.  The 
young  man  checked  off  the  points  of  offense  as 
you  have  heard  them.  The  Padre  polished  his 
rosy  countenance  until  it  shone  with  perplexity, 

299 


ISIDEO 

but  it  came  to  this,  that  he  would  do  nothing 
without  consulting  his  confrere  Keyes  Carrasco. 
Padre  Carrasco  being  at  that  moment  in  the  far 
thest  precincts  marking  out  cattle  for  slaughter, 
the  business  hung  in  suspense  until  the  evening 
of  that  day,  as  was  in  keeping  with  the  move 
ment  of  that  time,  nobody  suffering  inconve 
nience  on  that  account. 

Padre  Carrasco  was  as  shrewd  as  dry.  He 
came  in  with  the  skirt  of  his  cassock  tucked 
under  his  girdle,  and  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that 
the  lady's  husband  could  not  but  be  gratified  by 
his  wife's  good  fortune,  and  seeing  he  had  al 
ready  gone  to  the  capital  it  could  do  no  harm 
for  her  to  meet  him  there ;  but,  nevertheless,  the 
lady  should  have  her  own  free  will  to  go  or  stay. 
Jacinta,  when  she  was  called  to  counsel,  said 
very  quietly  that  she  would  go  to  Monterey.  It 
seemed  to  her  the  quickest  way  to  Escobar. 

"  Senora,"  said  Don  Valentin  on  the  road, 
edging  his  horse  as  near  to  her  as  the  way  al 
lowed,  "  let  me  beg  you  to  draw  your  rebozo 
closer  about  your  face,  otherwise  I  do  not  know 

300 


JACINTA  RIDES  TO  MONTEREY 

how  we  shall  get  to  Monterey;  your  beauty 
sends  my  wits  astray." 

"  In  that  case/'  said  Dona  Jacinta,  "  you  had 
best  ride  a  little  distance  forward." 

"  Useless/'  he  said,  pranking  his  horse  across 
the  trail ;  "  the  music  of  your  voice  draws  me 
back  again." 

"  So  we  shall  get  on  faster  if  I  do  no  talking/' 
said  she. 

"  Ah,  cruel,  cruel !  "  he  sighed. 

The  lady  was  out  of  tune  with  such  pointed 
blandishments.  At  the  crossing  of  a  brook  he 
offered  her  drink  from  his  own  silver  cup,  though 
the  strictest  behavior  owed  the  first  attention  to 
Sefiora  Romero,  the  duena. 

"  Drink,  most  beautiful,"  said  the  young  man, 
"  and  no  other  shall  drink  after  you." 

"  It  would  be  a  pity,"  said  she,  "  on  that  ac 
count,  to  spoil  so  excellent  a  vessel."  And  she 
waited  until  the  corporal's  wife  had  done  with 
her  gourd. 

"It  is  not  for  nothing  you  were  called  the 
Briar,"  said  Delgado,  and  he  put  up  his  cup. 
Finding  he  made  no  way  with  her  by  compli- 

301 


ISIDRO 

ments,  he  left  off  teasing  his  horse,  and  talked  of 
the  family  of  Ramirez,  their  estates  and  fame,  to 
which  she  listened  with  patience  and  collected 
looks.  He  had  a  guitar  in  his  pack,  a  necessary 
part  of  a  young  gentleman's  baggage,  which  he 
fingered  skillfully,  letting  the  bridle  rein  hang  on 
the  saddle-bow.  It  was  a  warm  day  livened  by  a 
damp  wind.  Westward  a  bank  of  roundish  cloud 
reflected  a  many-tinted  radiance  from  the  sea. 
The  rim  of  his  sombrero  made  a  half  moon  of 
shadow  on  his  face  as  he  tilted  up  his  chin  for 
singing ;  the  light  warmed  his  throat  ruddily 
and  glinted  on  the  jewel  in  his  hat.  He  sang  an 
aria  called  "  The  Dove,"  and  "  La  Nocha  esta 
Serena,"  but  got  no  notice  from  the  lady  until 
he  struck  into  a  little  tender  air  of  absent  love, 
which  Escobar  had  used  to  hum  wordlessly  under 
his  breath.  That  fluttered  her,  as  Don  Valentin 
was  quick  to  see,  so  he  rode,  singing,  while  the 
cavalcade  jogged  forward  to  the  twanging  of  his 
guitar,  well  pleased  with  himself  and  revolving 
many  things. 

The  trail  ran  from  San  Antonio  de  Padua  to 
Nuestra  Senora  de  la  Soledad,  with  a  branch  run- 

302 


JACINTA   RIDES   TO   MONTEREY 

ning  off  toward  Monterey,  uniting  again  at  Santa 
Cruz.  Delgado,  who  had  reasons  of  his  own  for 
prolonging  the  way,  chose  to  go  by  way  of  Sole- 
dad,  and  Dona  Jacinta  made  no  objection. 


XXI 


A  MEETING 


the  splendid  effects,  it  seems, 
are  saved  for  nature's  own  per- 
>l  f ormances,  —  sunset  glow,  long 
thunder  of  the  surf,  loud  thunder 
of  the  hills,  the  poppy  fires  of 
spring,  a  white  star  like  a  torch  to  usher  in  a 
crescent  moon ;  but  men's  great  occasions  go 
shabbily,  out  of  tune,  with  frayed  settings, 
cheapened  by  the  hand  that  pushes  them  off 
the  board.  Events  that  the  passions  of  a  whole 
life  lead  up  to  come  in  with  a  swarm  of  small, 
stinging  cares  like  gnats ;  compensations  are 
doled  out  by  halfpence. 

For  sixteen  years  the  interests  of  the  Coman- 
dante  found  nothing  to  fix  upon,  his  affections 
no  point  of  departure.  The  ichor  of  kindness 
curdled  even  in  his  dreams.  It  made  him  a  mar 
tinet  in  discipline,  and  a  friend  merely  of  his 
friend's  buttons.  The  habit  of  perfect  behavior 

304 


A   MEETING 

put  him  through  the  motions  of  taking  an  inter 
est  in  men,  but  there  was  plainly  no  heart  in  it ; 
naturally  this  got  him  misunderstood.  He  was 
thought  too  cold  to  have  cared  greatly  about  his 
wife,  but  it  was,  in  fact,  the  caring  that  had  left 
him  frozen.  The  renewed  hope  of  his  child  had 
come  upon  him  suddenly,  and  reached  a  mar 
velous  growth.  It  was  not  that  he  wished  more 
strongly  to  find  her  since  she  was  the  heiress  of 
Ramirez,  but  when  she  was  only  Ysabel's  child 
the  hate  of  Ysabel  had  seemed  to  balk  him  in 
his  search.  For  himself  he  had  not  the  heart  for 
going  on  with  it,  but  Ysabel  would  have  wished 
the  girl  to  come  into  the  inheritance.  Therefore 
as  he  wished  to  please  his  wife,  still  personal 
and  dear,  the  reasons  which  before  had  warded 
him  off  now  led  on.  He  had  really  believed 
his  daughter  dead  all  these  years.  It  occurred 
to  him  now  that  this  wanted  proving  at  several 
points,  —  an  excuse  for  hope.  Then  came  the 
discovery  of  the  certificate  in  the  almsbox,  and 
hope  flared  into  conviction.  She  lived,  bone  of 
his  bone,  commingling  of  his  flesh  and  that  of 
the  dearly  loved.  Ah,  Christ !  but  he  had  done 

305 


ISIDRO 

something ;  her  hate  had  not  been  proof  against 
that,  —  made  her  body  bud  and  bear  fruit; 
struck  a  soul  out  of  her  soul  as  a  spark  is  struck 
out  of  cold  steel.  His  very  thought  at  this  point 
was  choked  and  incoherent.  He  was  in  the  ex 
alted  mood  of  a  man  hearing  first  that  there  is 
hope  of  issue  of  his  love.  He  had  thoughts,  if 
Delgado's  mission  came  to  nothing,  of  resigning 
his  command  to  make  a  pilgrimage  through  the 
inhabited  coast  of  California  until  he  should  find 
her.  And  while  he  quivered  with  expectancy, 
Jacinta  came  in  upon  him  in  a  manner  least  to 
be  expected,  with  the  advent  of  more  than  ordi- 
dinary  official  pother  and  distraction. 

It  happened  in  this  way :  on  the  night  that 
Valentin  Delgado  and  his  party  lay  at  Mission 
Nuestra  Senora  de.  la  Soledad,  a  band  of  twenty 
mounted  Indians  had  descended  from  the  hills, 
crossing  the  river  above  the  Mission,  and  run  off 
twice  as  many  head  of  cattle  from  the  Mission 
fields.  It  was  surmised  that  the  men  must  have 
been  Urbano's  following,  rag-tag  of  all  the  tribes, 
their  leader  himself  a  renegade  from  Santa  Clara, 
and  late  harboring  in  the  tule  lands  about  the  San 

306 


A   MEETING 

Joaquin  River.  Small  losses  of  cattle  had 
laid  on  his  shoulders  before,  but  on  this  occasion 
it  appeared  that  he  must  have  had  an  accomplice 
within  the  Mission.  The  theft  was  not  discovered 
until  after  the  hour  of  morning  service,  as  late  as 
nine  o'clock,  to  be  exact,  which  gave  the  maraud 
ers  a  good  ten  hours'  advantage.  It  was  true  of 
the  Franciscans  that  they  not  only  preached  peace 
and  good  will  to  the  native  Calif  ornians,  but  prac 
ticed  it.  Their  conquest  of  five  hundred  miles 
of  coast  was  accomplished  almost  without  blood 
shed,  and  maintained  without  soldiering,  unless 
you  gave  that  name  to  the  corporal  and  two  or 
three  privates  stationed  at  each  community  of  five 
to  fifteen  hundred  Indians.  Six  soldiers  was  a 
very  large  number  to  be  employed  at  any  Mission, 
and  Soledad,  lying  nearest  to  Monterey  and  the 
Presidio,  had  only  two.  Immediately  on  the  dis 
covery,  the  corporal  and  his  man,  a  deserting  sailor 
who  had  enlisted  to  escape  being  forced  to  sea, 
with  two  trusted  neophytes,  set  about  tracking  the 
plunderers,  and  a  rider  was  sent  to  Monterey  to 
the  Comandante.  This  was  a  case  in  which  the 
Padres  could  confidently  expect  military  aid,  for 

307 


ISIDRO 

if  the  Indians  began  to  plunder  the  Missions  un 
punished  they  would  not  be  kept  long  from  the 
towns.  The  courier  started  at  once,  and  half  an 
hour  later,  a  little  delayed  by  the  flutter  at  So- 
ledad,  Delgado  and  his  party  set  out,  riding  lei 
surely  and  making  a  comfortable  camp  at  noon. 
Delgado  was  not  so  talkative  as  yesterday, 
considering  how  he  would  present  the  girl  to 
Castro  to  put  himself  in  the  best  light.  It  stuck 
in  his  mind  that  the  month  when  the  girl  strayed 
about  Monterey  with  Escobar,  in  boy's  clothing, 
covered  more  than  mere  freakishness.  Padre 
Tomas  thought  otherwise,  —  but  the  Padre  also 
believed  in  miracles  and  holy  water  for  bears. 
Privately  he  thought  the  fat  priest  a  credulous 
fool.  Don  Valentin  wished  to  marry  the  girl  if  it 
proved  feasible ;  but  though  he  could  contemplate 
a  marriage  for  advantage  without  love  and  not  be 
singular  in  his  time,  he  was  too  much  sopped  in 
the  chivalric  notion  of  his  type  to  admit  a  wed 
ding  without  honor.  He  held  the  girl's  marriage 
with  Escobar  a  knot  to  untangle,  or  a  reasonable 
excuse  for  drawing  back  if  she  should  prove  in 
his  estimation  damaged  goods. 

308 


A  MEETING 

The  young  man  was  not  so  sure  if  it  came  to 
a  wedding  it  would  be  altogether  without  love. 
He  had  kindled  a  fire  under  his  imagination  with 
her  romantic  story,  the  glamour  of  her  wealth  and 
her  promise  of  beauty.  Lastly,  he  marveled  to 
find  her  manners  not  so  much  unfit  for  her  station 
as  might  have  been  expected.  Something  she  had 
caught  from  Escobar,  electrified  by  the  fineness 
that  made  him  adorable.  But  beyond  that,  the 
Indian  woman,  remembering  whence  the  girl  had 
sprung,  had  denied  her  own  instincts  to  bring  up 
the  child  in  the  image  of  the  dominant  race.  By 
great  pains  and  tremendous  labors  of  an  elemen 
tary  mind  Castro's  daughter  had  been  nurtured  in 
an  exquisite  personality,  —  labors  beyond  her  own 
power  to  divine,  —  so  that  afterward,  when  she 
had  come  to  the  prime  of  her  charm  and  bodily 
beauty,  she  was  pointed  out  and  accustomed  to 
believe  herself  fit  for  her  exalted  station  chiefly 
by  the  prerogative  of  birth. 

Jacinta's  thoughts  on  this  day  of  riding  to 
ward  Monterey  did  not  run  so  far  back  as  the 
time  of  her  foster  mother,  hardly  so  far  forward 
as  the  home  of  her  father ;  beginning,  in  fact, 

309 


ISIDRO 

with  a  day  when  a  herd  boy  under  an  oak  saw  a 
glorious  youth  come  out  of  the  wood,  driving 
Mariano's  sheep.  She  understood  how  it  was 
that  Castro  should  be  her  father;  she  had  seen 
him  about  the  Presidio,  and  vaguely  prefigured 
his  relation  to  her ;  but  her  experience  hardly  af 
forded  the  stuff  for  imagination.  She  gathered 
from  the  corporal's  wife  that  the  rise  in  her  for 
tunes  must  give  her  new  value  in  her  husband's 
eyes ;  but  as  she  had  never  felt  servility  in  the 
first  estate  she  had  no  elation  in  this.  Whatever 
her  husband's  disposition  toward  her,  her  passion 
was  still  too  virginal  to  form  a  wish.  In  her  first 
dream  of  their  life  together  he  should  have  been 
a  priest  rapt  from  the  world,  and  she  should  serve 
him  and  lie  at  his  door.  Inasmuch  as  the  cir 
cumstance  of  her  birth  jostled  this  dream,  she 
found  it  vexatious  and  confusing,  and  she  lacked 
material  for  shaping  a  new  one.  Chiefly  she 
burned  with  the  thought  that  as  Escobar  had 
said  he  would  go  to  Monterey  she  would  meet 
him  there.  The  air  was  charged  with  the  sense 
of  his  presence.  She  made  scant  answers  to  Don 
Valentin's  curtailed  compliments,  each  being 

310 


A  MEETING 

busy  with  thought ;  and  the  corporal's  wife,  hav 
ing  all  the  conversation  to  herself,  made  the  most 
of  it.  So  they  rode  until  they  heard  the  sound 
of  the  sea  and  dogs  barking  in  the  streets  of 
Monterey. 

Plain  folk  had  not  yet  lost  the  zest  of  life  in 
Alta  California.  Nearly  all  the  town  was  out 
in  the  plaza,  helping  to  make  ready  the  detach 
ment  for  Soledad  with  the  joyous  volubility  and 
deft-handedness  of  the  Latin  race.  Castro  was 
settling  a  hornet's  nest  of  small  matters  in  his 
room  with  the  balcony  overlooking  the  sea. 

In  the  midst  of  it,  while  he  leaned  his  head  upon 
his  hand  for  weariness,  there  came  a  great  knock 
ing  at  the  outer  door,  and  a  quarrel  of  voices,  — 
his  orderly's  and  another  lofty  and  contained. 
He  heard  the  babble  fall  off  to  a  note  of  amaze 
ment  and  gratulation  and  the  feet  of  his  house 
hold  running  toward  the  door.  The  Comandante 
turned  expectantly  to  meet  fresh  news  from 
Soledad,  and  felt  a  warning  precede  it  down  the 
passage ;  a  warmth  and  glow  that  settled  at  his 
heart,  a  presage  of  satisfaction.  The  bustle 
halted  a  moment  outside  his  door,  which,  before 

311 


ISIDEO 

he  had  done  wondering  why  the  noise  should  be 
mixed  with  the  sweep  of  women's  skirts,  was 
flung  open  by  Delgado.  The  caballeros  of  that 
time  loved  flourishes ;  Don  Valentin  led  the  girl 
forward  by  her  finger-tips,  and  swept  up  to  the 
Comandante  with  a  great  bow. 

"Your  daughter,  senor."  Then  he  fell  back 
in  an  attitude  to  note  the  effect. 

Castro  saw  only  a  slim  figure,  straight  and 
illy  dressed,  and  his  own  chilled  spirit  looking 
at  him  out  of  the  eyes,  mouth,  and  brow  of  Ysa- 
bel,  his  wife.  He  grew  rigid  ;  his  hand  fluttered 
and  strayed  toward  a  drawer  where  certain  papers 
lay  with  some  cherished  trifles  of  his  wife's. 

"Jacinta  —  Jacinta,"  he  said  whisperingly, 
for  now  he  had  the  name  by  heart ;  and  then,  as 
the  resemblance  smote  home  to  him,  "  Ysabel, 
Ysabel." 

"  Ah,"  cried  Delgado  delightedly,  "  you  see  a 
likeness?" 

Castro  got  up  drunkenly  and  went  across  to 
her ;  his  breath  was  short  and  labored  ;  all  his 
motions  dragged  as  with  a  weight.  The  girl 
stood  still  and  cold  ;  drooping  now  with  fatigue, 

312 


A   MEETING 

her  arms  hung  down  straight  at  her  sides.  The 
Comandante  took  her  by  the  shoulders  and  con 
strained  her  toward  him.  The  room  was  close 
and  warm ;  blue  flies  buzzed  at  the  pane.  Dust 
of  travel,  saddle  weariness,  the  smell  of  provender 
and  horse  blankets  being  doled  out  in  the  quarters 
below,  obsessed  the  sense  of  them  all.  The  hour 
fell  flat  and  dry.  Castro  began  to  work  his  lips, 
gray  and  trembling,  but  seemed  not  to  understand 
that  he  brought  out  no  words.  Suddenly,  jarring 
the  stillness,  rang  out  the  trumpet  call  to  evening 
drill,  which  Castro  was  used  to  have  in  charge. 
Military  precision,  the  use  of  old  habit,  held  and 
stood  the  Comandante  in  the  stead  of  tears. 
They  saw  the  motions  of  his  face,  and  understood 
them  for  the  excuses  which  he  believed  he  had 
delivered.  The  man  sank  into  the  Comandante 
as  a  sword  is  dropped  into  a  sheath.  He  turned 
stiffly  and  went  out. 

So  the  first  hour  which  Jacinta  passed  in  her 
father's  house  was  spent  sitting  on  a  bench  in  the 
bare  little  room,  with  Senora  Romero  surprised 
into  stillness,  and  Delgado  walking  up  and  down 
beside  her. 

313 


ISIDRO 

The  necessity  of  providing  his  daughter  and 
her  company  a  meal  and  beds  steadied  Castro, 
and  carried  him  through  an  hour  or  two  until 
he  could  hear  Delgado's  story.  Jacinta  admitted 
every  point  as  far  as  it  touched  her  knowledge, 
and  recognized  the  packet  as  the  one  she  had 
brought  up  from  Peter  Lebecque.  But  Castro 
needed  no  other  warrant  than  her  looks.  Com 
munication  between  them  was  still  dry  and  un 
fruitful.  He  kissed  her  forehead  only  for  good 
night,  and  she  endured  it. 

The  detachment,  twelve  men  and  an  officer,  got 
off  for  Soledad  by  sunrise,  which  for  that  time 
was  unusual  dispatch.  The  Presidio  returned  to 
its  level  round,  and  news  of  Castro's  daughter  be 
gan  to  spread  about  the  town.  But  the  two  came 
no  nearer  each  other.  Jacinta  was  always  at  a 
window  looking  out,  hungering  amid  the  strange 
ness  for  a  sight  of  Escobar  ;  restless,  starting  at 
small  sounds,  close  upon  the  verge  of  tears,  not 
recognizing  her  own  state.  Castro  would  be  al 
ways  edging  in  her  direction,  not  enduring  to  have 
her  out  of  his  sight,  and  wondering  at  the  dry- 
ness  of  his  own  heart.  Toward  the  middle  of  the 

314 


A  MEETING 

afternoon  he  found  her  on  the  balcony  with  the 
rebozo  off  her  neck  for  coolness,  and  he  saw 
the  cord  that  held  the  medal  about  her  slender 
throat. 

"  What  is  this,  daughter  ?  "  he  said,  with  his 
hand  upon  her  shoulder,  yearning  toward  the 
proper  intimacy  of  their  relation  and  not  daring 
much. 

"  I  have  always  worn  it,"  she  said.  "  Juana 
told  me  it  belonged  to  my  baptism.  I  have  never 
had  it  off." 

Castro  drew  it  out  and  held  it  in  his  palm, 
warm  from  her  bosom.  Then  he  knew  it  for 
Ysabel's,  and  thrilled  to  it  as  to  living  touch  of 
her.  He  kissed  it,  murmuring  to  it  broken  words 
of  endearment,  and  laid  his  head  upon  the  rail 
ing  before  him,  kneeling  on  the  floor,  and  cried. 
The  girl  was  in  a  mood  to  be  touched  by  his 
grief  ;  sick  with  longing,  strange,  tired  with  new 
habits,  she  began  to  gasp  ;  tears  filled  her  eyes, 
brimmed  over  and  ran  abroad  on  her  cheeks  as  not 
having  learned  the  way ;  filled  and  brimmed  over 
as  the  pool  of  a  rain-fed  spring.  Her  father  heard 
the  drip  of  her  tears  on  the  floor,  reached  out  and 

315 


ISIDEO 

drew  her  in  ;  kneeling  they  sobbed  together. 
Jacinta's  tears  were  purely  hysterical,  but  Castro 
mistook  them ;  they  mingled  with  his  and  washed 
the  wounds  of  her  mother's  hate. 

The  Comandante  began  to  be  inordinately 
fond  of  his  daughter,  touched  the  earth  only  at 
the  points  that  served  her.  He  ransacked  the 
shops,  and  obtained  extraordinary  trading  privi 
leges  for  a  Yankee  vessel  on  the  mere  intimation 
that  it  carried  women's  fardels  for  barter.  Senora 
Romero  was  sent  home  with  a  handsome  present, 
and  the  wife  of  one  of  Castro's  lieutenants  estab 
lished  Jacinta's  duena  and  adviser.  Old  Marta 
of  the  Mission  Carmelo  was  brought  over  to  be 
her  personal  attendant ;  it  was  the  only  prefer 
ence  the  girl  made  in  her  new  situation. 

No  one  but  the  Indian  woman  and  Delgado 
knew  of  the  wedding  at  San  Antonio,  and  their 
mouths  were  effectively  stopped  by  self-interest, 
for  this  was  the  one  thing  at  which  Castro's 
gorge  rose.  Jacinta  had  told  him  very  simply 
how  it  came  about,  —  the  capture,  bondage,  and 
delivery,  Isidro's  discovery  of  her  sex,  the  young 
man's  high  airs,  and  the  virgin  marriage,  —  all 

316 


A  MEETING 

except  the  one  important  item  that  she  loved 
him.  A  certain  crisp  manner  of  speaking  and 
a  boyish  straightforwardness  where  one  would 
look  for  blushes  and  tremors  carried  no  informa 
tion.  The  Comandante  had  the  sense  to  see 
that  if  this  story  of  boy's  dress  and  Mascado  ever 
got  abroad,  the  marriage  would  prove  the  best 
cure  for  the  girl's  blown  fame.  He  could  appre 
ciate  Escobar's  chivalry  so  far,  but  he  stuck  at 
the  desertion.  Was  she  good  enough  for  bell 
and  book,  and  not  good  enough  for  bed  and 
board  —  the  daughter  of  a  Ramirez  !  —  By  the 
mass  !  Here  he  would  fall  to  conning  the  insin 
uations  of  Don  Valentin,  to  whom  he  was  as 
extraordinarily  grateful  as  he  was  fond  of  his 
child.  Certainly  there  was  reason  enough  for 
this  unconsummated  marriage  to  be  set  aside  if 
reason  ever  was ;  and  Delgado  was  the  better 
match.  Saavedra,  when  he  returned  from  the 
north,  would  have  something  to  contribute.  Cas 
tro  had  dispatched  letters  asking  to  be  relieved 
from  his  command,  to  accompany  his  daughter 
to  Mexico  in  the  settlement  of  the  estate,  and 
nothing  need  be  arranged  until  that  time. 

317 


ISIDKO 

As  for  Jacinta,  she  took  all  her  new  life 
alike,  as  the  caged  animal  takes  the  cage  and 
the  hand  that  feeds  it.  She  was  very  still,  espe 
cially  through  the  day,  wjien  she  was  under  her 
father's  hand.  This  was  the  manner  of  their  life 
together  :  they  would  have  chocolate  in  the  patio 
of  a  morning ;  then,  while  her  father  left  her  for 
his  official  labors,  she  would  go  about  the  house 
with  Marta,  making  great  concern  of  the  house 
keeping,  of  which  she  knew  very  little.  Castro 
would  be  running  in  and  out  all  day  to  make 
excuse  to  see  her.  After  the  siesta  she  would  sit 
for  an  hour  or  two  with  the  lieutenant's  wife, 
learning  the  mysteries  of  the  toilet  and  needle 
work,  of  which  she  knew  nothing  at  all.  At  the 
evening  meal  the  Comandante  sat  long  over  his 
wine,  sometimes  in  the  patio,  sometimes  in  the 
little  balcony  overlooking  the  sea.  Then  Don 
Valentin  would  come  in  and  make  conversation 
suited  to  ladies'  company.  He  would  bring  his 
guitar  and  sing  tender  and  passionate  airs  to 
which  the  girl  was  glad  to  listen.  It  was  so  she 
learned  the  phraseology  of  love.  But  when  the 
house  was  shut  and  all  lights  out  in  the  town,  a 

318 


A  MEETING 

wood  mood  came  upon  her.  She  could  not  sleep 
within  walls  at  any  time,  but  had  her  cot  brought 
out  to  the  patio  under  a  vine ;  there  she  would 
lie,  and  the  Indian  woman  crouch  by  her  head ; 
or  at  times  she  would  pace  the  length  of  her 
cage  with  inconceivably  light  tread,  and  always 
they  would  talk.  Now  they  would  say  how  it 
would  be  in  the  forest  at  that  hour,  and  what 
would  be  doing  at  certain  dark  pools  where  the 
wood  creatures  came  to  drink,  or  what  roots  or 
berries  were  best  at  that  season,  and  the  virtues 
of  certain  herbs.  Other  times  the  girl  would  de 
spoil  herself  of  tenderness  and  babble  of  Isidro 
and  the  joy  of  their  riding,  riding  in  the  pleasant 
weather ;  now  it  would  be  the  slow  open  heath 
of  Pasteria  with  the  shepherd  fires  and  flooding 
moon ;  now  a  sudden  small  bluster  of  rain  that 
sent  them  to  shelter  under  a  thicket  where  there 
was  a  smell  of  moist  earth,  and  all  the  grass  was 
wet;  then  the  stony  slopes  of  wild  lilac  that 
slapped  the  horses'  flanks,  and  the  sea  fog  drift 
ing  in.  At  times  she  fell  sick  with  longing, 
lying  dry-eyed  and  dumb ;  then  it  would  be 
Marta  who  showed  her  straightly  how  a  man's 

319 


ISIDRO 

love  is  taken  and  kept,  and  how  a  woman  must 
give  wholly  without  seeming  to  give  all.  Also  it 
was  ordained  that  as  a  man  grew  weary  of  kiss 
ing  there  would  be  young  mouths  at  the  breast 
to  draw  out  that  pain,  so  that  if  women  had  the 
worst  of  it  in  loving  they  had  afterward  the 
best. 

"  A  lover  is  a  great  lord,"  she  said,  "  but  a  son 
is  a  greater.  Wait,  most  beautiful,  till  you  have 
borne  a  son."  The  poor  girl  owned  to  herself 
there  was  little  chance  of  that,  and,  in  fact,  she 
hardly  asked  so  much.  But  the  time  wore  on,  and 
Escobar  did  not  come.  Then  her  pride  began  to 
be  awake.  She  saw  her  father  deeply  fretted  by 
Escobar's  lateness,  which  he  took  for  scorn.  At 
last  he  ventured  to  speak  to  her  of  it,  and  once 
opened  between  them  it  was  like  fire  out  of  cover. 
He  perceived  her  hurt,  which  was  really  the 
wound  of  latent  womanliness  at  being  so  lightly 
set  aside,  for  she  knew  nothing  of  family  pride 
and  little  of  caste.  It  was  enough  for  Don  Jesus 
that  she  suffered  at  all,  and  he  fumed  accordingly. 

All  Jacinta's  pride  was  not  to  be  found  want 
ing  in  anything  befitting  the  wife  of  an  Escobar. 

320 


A   MEETING 

If  resentment  was  proper  to  her  station,  she  must 
make  a  show  of  it  at  whatever  cost.  So  she  took 
arms  against  her  love  to  make  herself  more  worthy 
of  her  lover.  In  this  she  followed  Castro's  lead. 
It  is  fair  to  say  that  of  Don  Valentin's  courting 
she  apprehended  not  a  whit.  When  her  father 
hinted  at  the  possibility  of  a  dissolution  of  the 
marriage  she  assented,  believing  in  her  heart  that 
so  Escobar  wished.  Affairs,  being  in  this  posture, 
remained  without  alteration  until  at  the  end  of 
ten  days  they  had  word  from  the  detachment 
following  the  cattle  thieves  in  the  hills  eastward 
from  Soledad.  * 


XXII 


A  WORD  FROM  THE  MOUNTAINS 

.JSijNE    allows    to    the   flight   of   wild 

iwlS  pigeons>  darkening  the  sky  for  days, 
a  prescience  germinating  singly  in 
each  bluish  breast  at  the  same  hour, 
as  gilias  blow  in  instant  myriads  upon 
the  spur  of  spring.  Wild  geese  clang  up 
ward  from  the  Tulares  as  recurrently  as 
grapes  ripen  in  the  wood  at  the  set  time 
of  the  year ;  but  when  men  begin  to  sway 
together,  to  move  in  companies  and  ex 
hibit  in  widely  scattered  parts  froth  of  the 
same  churning  desires,  we  are  far  to  seek  for  the 
cause  of  it :  usurpations,  extortions,  Pentecost  or 
Judgment  of  God.  It  is  all  devil  or  Holy  Ghost. 
So  the  Franciscans  laid  the  mutinies,  fallings  off, 
and  infringements  of  the  savages  to  the  first 
mentioned ;  even  so  the  tribes  braved  themselves 
for  such  trespass  by  commerce  with  their  disused 
gods.  No  doubt  the  god  of  the  water-fowl  and 

322 


A   WORD   FROM   THE   MOUNTAINS 

the  wood  pigeons  would  have  served  as  well  in 
either  case. 

About  the  middle  of  the  month  of  waning 
bloom  the  free  Indians  drew  to  cover  in  the  stony 
winding  gullies  of  the  mountains,  about  forty 
true  born  and  a  half-dozen  mestizos  and  mongrels, 
led  by  Urban  o,  who  had  Mascado  for  his  right 
hand.  They  made  medicine  daily ;  smoke  of 
council  fires  went  up  by  night,  and  the  click  of 
rattles  sounded  through  the  wood  with  singing 
and  exultation.  The  presage  of  their  triumph 
rose  like  an  exhalation  from  their  camps,  and 
settled  over  the  Missions,  where  thousands  of 
their  blood  had  taken  on  the  habits  of  a  gentler 
life,  swung  censers  for  medicine  sticks,  had  scap 
ulars  for  fetiches,  and  prayed  to  the  One  God 
prefigured  in  a  wooden  doll.  If  the  new  faith 
went  deeper  it  was  not  so  deep  that  the  roll  of 
the  ceremonial  drums  struck  no  chord  under  it. 
After  the  news  of  the  skirmish  at  Las  Chimineas, 
the  neophytes  kept  close.  By  all  accounts  only 
rabbits  and  appointed  couriers  ran  on  the  road 
between  Soledad  and  Monterey,  but  the  wood 
began  to  leak.  Hints  of  distraction  crept  into 

323 


ISIDRO 

the  Missions ;  old  men  had  glittering  eyes  and 
talked  cautiously  in  corners.  Scraps  of  news 
with  no  mouth  to  father  them  drifted  from  Car- 
melo  to  the  town  and  were  guaranteed  by  courier 
two  or  three  days  later.  It  was  whispered  that 
Marta  had  news  of  her  son,  for  whom  she  kept  a 
candle  burning  before  San  Antonio  and  the  Child. 
She  went  that  day  walking  over  from  Monterey, 
and  took  away  the  candle  from  the  little  altar  of 
Carmelo  ;  she  may  have  thought  the  saint  inatten 
tive,  or  perhaps  that  her  son  did  well  enough  for 
himself  where  he  was.  She  went  straight  to  the 
blessed  candle,  snuffed  it  out,  and  hid  it  in  her 
bosom.  Unprecedented  behavior !  None  saw  her 
but  an  altar  ministrant  who  dared  nothing  by 
way  of  interference ;  the  chief's  daughter  had  a 
commanding  walk,  and  the  manners  of  royalty 
grew  upon  her  in  those  days.  Her  eyes  were 
bleak  with  memories,  at  other  times  bright  and 
hot.  She  would  be  about  the  house  crooning  old 
songs,  and  would  fall  into  set,  unconscious  stares. 
Of  evenings  they  heard  her  chant  low  and  wildly 
when  the  moon  was  up  and  a  light  wind  came  in 
from  the  sea.  The  sound  of  her  singing  mixed 

324 


A  WORD  FROM  THE  MOUNTAINS 

with  the  strumming  of  Don  Valentin's  guitar, 
and  pierced  Jacinta  like  a  call  from  the  wild. 
Then  she  wearied  of  love  and  its  sickness,  and 
would  make  occasion  to  slip  away  to  Marta  and 
talk  of  her  life  at  the  Grapevine  before  Esco 
bar  came.  Out  of  sheer  kindness  she  would  recall 
hunting  exploits  of  Mascado's,  of  which  the  older 
woman  was  greedy.  There  was  much  gossip  of  a 
hero-making  sort  afloat  concerning  him  at  Car- 
melo,  where  the  Padres  kept  the  smoke  of  incense 
going  all  day,  increased  the  service  of  the  mass, 
and  had  serious  thoughts  of  attaching  a  pen 
ance  to  the  singing  of  native  songs.  But  the 
time  drew  on  to  the  dark  of  the  moon,  when  no 
dog  howls  and  wolves  will  not  run  in  a  pack. 
The  stir  and  the  singing  died,  women  grinding 
at  the  quern  began  to  lift  a  hymn  to  the  Blessed 
Virgin. 

The  soldiers  were  reported  still  following  the 
cattle  thieves,  who  were  retreating  eastward. 
Then  came  the  news  of  a  skirmish  near  the 
Arroyo  Seco  in  which  three  soldiers  were  killed 
and  two  hurt.  A  few  only  of  the  cattle  were  re 
covered,  for  the  Indians  had  parted  them  in  three 

325 


ISIDRO 

bands  and  gone  up  from  Soledad  by  divers  trails. 
Many  of  the  marauders  had  guns,  for  which  it  was 
surmised  the  Russian  traders  would  be  paid  in  the 
hides  of  stolen  beeves.  This  was  stirring  news  for 
a  lotus-eating  land.  A  new  detachment  from  the 
Presidio  got  off  at  once  ;  Castro  himself  rode  at 
the  head  of  it.  This  satisfied  a  public  sentiment, 
and  his  own  sense  of  the  seriousness  of  his  posi 
tion,  which  was  great.  It  touched  his  honor  to 
leave  no  loose  ends  of  mutiny  in  his  jurisdiction, 
since  he  had  applied  for  and  expected  his  honor 
able  retirement.  He  drew  heavily  on  the  military 
resources  of  the  province,  and  got  away  with 
twenty  men  provisioned  for  a  month. 

Saavedra  came  hurrying  home  from  the  north, 
and  the  same  day  came  to  him  Delgado  with  his 
story  of  the  wedding  at  San  Antonio,  and  Pascual 
Escobar,  ridden  up  from  Las  Plumas,  demanding 
his  brother  from  all  the  four  winds.  Word  of 
Isidro's  imprisonment  and  other  extraordinary 
doings  had  penetrated  so  far,  and  the  young  man 
was  jealous  of  the  credit  of  his  house.  Saavedra 
put  him  off  with  soothing  words  until  he  had 
revolved  how  much  of  Isidro's  story  could  be  told 

326 


A   WOKD   FROM   THE  MOUNTAINS 

in  fairness  to  all  parties,  and  in  the  interim  several 
things  happened. 

Affairs  moved  on  much  the  same  for  Jacinta 
except  that  the  lieutenant's  wife  sat  with  her 
evenings  when  Delgado  came  in  with  his  guitar, 
and  she,  loving  a  lover  as  do  most  ladies,  egged 
on  the  match  with  practiced  art.  Delgado  was 
beginning  to  imagine  himself  vastly  in  love. 
Jacinta  stirred  a  little  to  practice  on  him  the 
arts  in  which  she  lacked  no  tutoring  from  her 
duena. 

Then  Fray  Demetrio,  who  had  heard  of  this 
hedged  young  beauty  whom  one  had  no  more 
than  a  glimpse  of  as  she  passed  with  her  father 
in  the  promenade,  bethought  himself  of  sundry 
past  kindnesses  on  the  part  of  the  lieutenant's 
wife,  and  made  a  ghostly  call.  The  man  was  at 
all  times  inordinately  curious,  and  had  a  fine 
taste  for  ladies'  looks. 

"  She  is  not  to  be  seen,  brother,  I  assure  you," 
said  the  duena ;  "  the  Comandante  was  most 
strict ;  but  to  one  of  your  holy  calling,  and  an  old 
friend  —  and  you  knew  her  mother,  you  say  "  — 
You  may  judge  what  exchange  of  compliments 

327 


ISIDRO 

had  gone  to  the  visit  up  to  this  point.  "  Well/' 
said  the  lady,  "  when  we  cross  the  patio  to  look 
at  the  Castilian  roses,  look  behind  the  vine  there  ; 
we  call  it  Jacinta's  vine.  That  is  she  with  her 
needlework  lying  in  her  lap.  It  is  always  so, 
I  assure  you,  when  I  am  not  by.  Look  now 
and  tell  me  if  the  likeness  is  as  striking  as 
reported." 

Fages  looked,  choked,  spluttered,  came  near  to 
having  an  apoplexy,  but  had  the  wit  to  keep  his 
tongue  in  guard. 

"  Ah  !  "  cried  the  lady  at  the  outer  gate,  "  you 
find  the  resemblance  extraordinary.  So  the  Senor 
Comandante  says." 

"  Extraordinary,  my  dear  lady,  is  not  the  word  ; 
it  is  miraculous ;  not  a  feature  lacking,  even  to 
the  bent  bar  of  her  brows." 

"  But  surely,"  said  the  lady  as  she  let  him  out, 
"  the  eyebrows  she  has  from  her  father.  So  I 
have  understood." 

Fray  Demetrio  went  straight  to  Delfina.  When 
those  two  worthies  had  their  heads  together  there 
was  sure  to  be  gossip  afoot.  Within  three  hours 
Delfina  came  bustling  about  the  quarters  on  a 

328 


A  WORD   FROM  THE  MOUNTAINS 

dozen  well-devised  errands,  pertinacious  as  a  wasp 
until  she  had  a  good  look  at  the  Comandante's 
daughter,  and  went  out  humming  with  her  news. 
By  nightfall  most  matrons  in  the  town  knew  that 
there  was  a  reasonable  supposition  that  Dona 
Jacinta  was  the  same  slim  lad  seen  lurking 
about  the  Mission  a  month  gone,  with  Senor 
Isidro  Escobar,  the  same  who  had  been  carried 
off  by  an  Indian,  run  after  by  one  young  man 
and  brought  home  by  another.  By  the  next 
day  they  were  sure  of  it,  by  the  second  it  had 
reached  the  lieutenant's  wife  and  Pascual  Es 
cobar. 

Pascual  flounced  off  to  Saavedra  in  a  great 
fume.  He  felt  the  occasion  demanded  that  he 
should  fight  somebody;  not  Saavedra,  since  he 
was  a  priest,  nor  Jacinta,  for  she  was  a  lady  ; 
but  when  Padre  Vicente  had  told  him  the  whole 
story  as  far  as  it  was  known  to  him,  Pascual  con 
cluded  it  must  be  Delgado.  From  the  start  he 
would  have  taken  to  the  young  man  immensely 
for  his  fine  airs  and  sumptuous  dress ;  had  copied 
both  and  lost  all  his  money  to  him  at  cards ;  but 
in  view  of  what  he  purposed  toward  Isidro, — 

329 


ISIDRO 

nothing  less  than  possession  of  his  wife,  —  Del- 
gado  had  rather  shrugged  off  an  intimacy  with 
the  elder  brother. 

Pascual  found  the  young  man  in  front  of  his 
lodging,  fixing  his  saddle  in  perturbation,  with 
scant  allowance  for  courtesies. 

"  A  word  with  you,  senor,"  cried  Escobar. 

"  Another  time,  senor ;  I  have  business  in 
hand." 

66 1  also,  senor ;  my  business  is  with  you." 

"I  pray  you  hold  me  excused.  I  go  upon  a 
journey  of  great  urgency." 

"  You  shall  go  upon  a  longer  one  if  you  do 
not  hear  me  speedily.  My  business  is  the  duello. 
Will  you  fight?" 

"  With  you  ?  Wine  of  Christ !  Yes,  when  I 
return,  if  your  affair  has  not  passed  off  in  vapor- 
ings  by  that  time."  Delgado  sprang  to  the  sad 
dle  and  struck  into  a  tearing  gallop.  Escobar 
galloped  after  and  drew  level. 

"  Senor,  I  challenge  you.  You  offend.  You 
are  courting  my  brother's  wife.  Will  you  fight  ?  " 
The  wind  of  their  speed  took  the  words  out  of 
his  mouth. 

330 


A  WORD  FROM  THE  MOUNTAINS 

"The  devil!"  cried  Delgado.  "You  have 
heard  that  story  !  " 

"  I  say  again/'  panted  Pascual,  "  will  you 
fight?" 

"  Senor,  can  you  ride  ?  " 

"  Ride,  ride  !  "  cried  Escobar.  "  Judge  if  I  can 
ride."  He  cut  his  horse  cruelly  with  the  quirt  and 
tore  ahead.  Delgado  used  the  spur  and  came 
up  with  him. 

"  Then  ride,  senor,  for  if  we  make  not  good 
speed  this  day  I  know  not  how  long  you  may 
have  a  brother.  And  as  for  his  wife,  I  believe 
she  has  gone  in  search  of  him." 

"  Explain,  explain  !  "  cried  Pascual,  the  words 
pounded  out  of  him  by  the  jar  of  their  riding. 

"  Word  has  come  to  me  that  Don  Isidro  is 
in  captivity  with  the  Indians.  His  wife,  if  wife 
she  is,  is  not  to  be  found.  I  think  she  has  gone 
to  find  him.  The  woman  Marta  is  with  her. 
I  go  to  Castro.  Now  will  you  fight  or  ride  ?  " 

"  Ride,  ride,"  gasped  Pascual,  "  if  it  is  as  you 
say,  and  afterward  if  need  be  we  will  fight." 

"  Have  it  so,"  said  Delgado ;  and  after  that 
they  saved  their  breath,  and  lent  their  minds  to 

331 


ISIDRO 

the  speed  of  the  horses.    They  kept  a  running 
pace  until  they  struck  rising  ground. 

News  of  Isidro's  detention  in  the  camp  of  the 
renegades  had  come  to  Monterey  from  Soledad, 
where  it  was  made  known  by  a  captive  taken  at 
Arroyo  Seco.  Marta  had  carried  it  straight  to 
Jacinta. 

"  Sing,  my  bird  of  the  mountain/'  she  said. 
"  I  have  a  word  for  you.  He  is  neither  faithless 
nor  unkind."  Guess  how  the  girl  hugged  that 
news,  nursing  it  against  her  heart  till  it  was  warm 
with  hope.  Marta  had  known  how  to  put  tidings 
in  a  fruitful  shape.  She  waited  for  the  pang  and 
the  cry  that  followed  in  the  wake  of  joy. 

"  But,  Marta,"  she  said,  "  Mascado  ?  " 

"  What  of  him  ?  "  said  the  older  woman. 

"  He  is  there  with  the  Indians,  next  to  the  chief, 
you  said.  He  will  kill  Sen  or  Escobar." 

"  He  will  not  dare,"  said  the  mother  of  Mas 
cado. 

"  Ah,  but  you  do  not  know.  When  we  came 
away  from  Las  Chimineas,  as  I  have  told  you, 
\vhen  my  —  when  Senor  Escobar  had  taken  him 

332 


A   WOKD   FROM   THE   MOUNTAINS 

with  the  riata  and  bound  him,  he  looked  at  us  as 
we  rode  away,  —  such  a  look  !  There  he  sat  with 
his  back  to  the  tree  and  his  knife  on  the  rock  be 
fore  him  ;  he  looked  from  that  to  Senor  Escobar 
and  back  again  as  if  he  would  have  drawn  them 
together  with  his  eyes,  so  great  was  his  hate. 
There  was  death  in  his  look.  Ah,  Marta,  tell  me 
what  I  shall  do." 

"  But  he  has  not  killed  him  yet,"  said  Marta. 

"  You  do  not  know  ;  the  news  is  a  week  old. 
Mascado  may  not  have  seen  him  yet ;  they  say 
the  Indians  are  in  three  camps."  The  girl  wrung 
her  hands. 

"Mascado  would  not  dare,"  said  his  mother 
again. 

But  Jacinta  fell  to  crying  softly  without  noise 
or  sobbing ;  then  she  would  sit  drawing  counsel 
from  her  hope,  and  afterward  the  flood  of  grief 
would  grow  full  and  drip  over  in  unrelieving 
tears.  Marta  made  her  chili  rellenos  for  dinner, 
green  peppers  stuffed  with  cheese  and  fried,  but 
the  girl  would  take  no  comfort  in  them.  So  at 
last  when  the  sun  had  licked  up  the  shadow  like 
damp  from  the  patio,  and  the  whole  town  lay 

333 


ISIDRO 

a-doze,  Marta  took  the  girl's  hands  between  her 
palms  and  said  her  last  word. 

"  Fret  no  more,  my  Briar/'  she  said,  "  I  will 
go  and  speak  with  my  son." 

"  How  will  you  go,  Marta  ?  " 

"  I  can  get  a  horse,  and  if  any  meet  me  in  the 
hills  I  will  say  I  seek  my  son.  Mascado  is  a  cap 
tain.  They  will  not  hurt  me." 

"  But  how  will  you  know  where  he  is  ?  " 

"  I  have  a  word,  —  a  bird  of  the  air  brought 
it;  never  fear." 

"  And  when  you  find  him  what  will  you  do  ?  " 

The  daughter  of  a  chief  drew  herself  up. 

"  What  becomes  me,"  she  said. 

"  Ah,  Marta,  take  me  with  you  !  " 

"  Most  beautiful,  what  will  you  do  in  the  hills?" 

"  I  will  go  to  my  husband." 

"  There  is  war  in  the  hills,  and  the  tribes  are 
bitter  against  the  gente  de  razon" 

"  But  if  I  am  of  the  gente  de  razon  I  am  also 
Indian  bred.  Seventeen  years  I  myself  knew  no 
better."  With  such  debates  she  followed  the 
elder  woman  from  room  to  room. 

"  What  will  your  father  say  ?  "  said  Marta. 
334 


A   WORD   FROM   THE   MOUNTAINS 

"  What  will  he  say  to  you  whom  he  com 
manded  not  to  leave  me  ?  "  demanded  the  girl. 

"  Will  you  that  I  stay?" 

"  Ah  no,  no,  —  only  take  me  with  you." 

There  was  another  reason  why  Jacinta  wished 
to  get  away  from  Monterey,  one  as  deep  as  her 
desire  and  more  inarticulate.  By  dint  of  many 
hints  from  the  lieutenant's  wife,  the  point  of 
Delgado's  compliments  grew  plain  to  her.  Now 
she  saw  her  father's  drift,  and  what  prompted 
his  ire  against  Escobar.  That  tie  dissolved,  Del- 
gado  was  to  have  her,  to  which  her  own  quietude 
under  her  father's  suggestion  had  in  a  measure 
committed  her.  All  the  simplicity  of  her  forest 
breeding,  which  denies  the  approach  of  marriage 
to  any  feet  but  love's,  and  perhaps  a  wraith  from 
Ysabel's  unhappy  grave,  rose  up  to  warn  her 
dumbly.  But  it  lay  too  deep  for  complaining ; 
she  could  sense  it,  but  not  give  it  speech.  All 
that  afternoon  she  avoided  her  dueiia  and  the 
needlework  under  plea  of  a  headache,  that  she 
might  find  Marta  among  the  cooking  pots  and 
pans,  and  with  arms  folded  on  the  elder  woman's 
knees  make  argument  and  persuasion. 

335 


.xxm 

HIDDEN   WATERS 

[KBANO,  captain  of  the  rag-tag  of 
tribesmen,  whose  right  hand  was 
Mascado,  was  not  the  stuff  of  which 
new  civilizations  are  made.  That 
was  about  all  there  was  behind 
his  defection  from  Santa  Clara.  He  and  some 
dozens  of  his  following  wished  not  to  live  always 
in  one  place,  wear  clothes,  marry  one  wife  and 
stay  by  her;  preferred  to  gather  wild  grapes 
rather  than  plant  vineyards,  to  set  snares  for  the 
wild  fowl  of  the  Tulares  rather  than  raise  barley 
for  clucking  hens ;  wished  to  have  the  wind  on 
their  faces,  the  stars  over  them,  the  turf  under 
foot.  There  were  some  savages  in  his  fellowship, 
chiefly  mestizos,  begotten  upon  Indian  women  by 
drunken  sailors  or  convicts  sent  into  the  country 
to  serve  as  soldiers;  but  of  scalping,  tortures, 
massacres,  all  the  bloody  entourage  of  traditional 
Indian  warfare,  -they  knew  as  little  as  of  the 

336 


HIDDEN   WATERS 

Christian  virtues.  They  hated  holy  water,  houses, 
field  labor,  stocks,  the  whipping-post,  the  sound 
of  a  church  bell ;  and  as  much  as  the  Padres 
stood  for  these  things,  hated  them  also.  But 
they  had  really  not  much  grievance.  Some  of 
them  had  been  detained  in  the  Missions  against 
their  will,  and  that  is  an  offense  upon  any 
grounds.  Some  had  been  hunted  by  soldiers 
in  hills  where  their  fathers  were  mesne  lords, 
and  whipped  for  seeking  every  man's  right  to 
live  in  what  place  best  pleases  him ;  that  was 
the  full  extent  of  imposition.  The  Missions  never 
appropriated  to  their  own  use  one  half  the  lands 
claimed  by  the  tribes  they  baptized,  and  since  the 
Padres  preferred  raising  cattle  to  hunting  deer, 
the  wild  game  increased  without  check.  The 
remnant  of  the  tribes,  having  more  ground  to 
hunt  in  than  they  could  well  cover,  were  not 
happy  in  it.  They  missed  the  excitement  of  tribal 
feasts  and  dances,  feuds  and  border  wars,  the 
stir  of  a  numerous  people  in  large  land. 

So  for  sport  they  took  to  cattle-stealing,  relish 
ing  the  taste  of  Mission  beef,  and  coveting  the 
knives,  beads,  and  ammunition  which  the  Rus- 

337 


ISIDRO 

sians  paid  them  for  hides,  pleased,  no  doubt,  to 
harry  the  Padres  on  any  account.  Possibly  they 
dreamed,  as  their  numbers  were  augmented  by 
success,  of  driving  out  the  Franciscans  and  re 
storing  the  old  order,  for  no  better  reason  than 
that  they  wished  it  so.  Beginning  in  a  small  way, 
running  off  two  or  three  head  of  stock  at  a  time, 
they  grew  in  impertinences  until  they  had  planned 
and  executed  in  full  force  the  raid  on  Soledad, 
and  so  brought  out  the  Comandante  fuming 
from  Monterey,  and  the  ruin  of  their  company. 

Urbano,  El  Capitan,  had  deserved  his  elec 
tion.  He  was  shrewd,  hearty,  temperate,  and  ex 
pedient.  Mascado,  who  had  joined  him  to  slake 
a  private  vengeance,  ended  by  giving  him  a  full 
measure  of  regard.  The  expedition  had  come 
through  the  hills  in  open  order,  not  too  carefully, 
since  there  were  none  stirring  in  the  region  to 
carry  alarm  to  the  Missions,  and  with  so  little 
soldierly  attention  to  their  rear  that  Isidro  Esco 
bar  and  Arnaldo  the  tracker  had  come  well  within 
their  lines  before  discovery.  Even  then,  had  the 
two  men  given  no  evidence  of  suspicion,  of  hav 
ing  noted  the  camps  and  the  numbers  of  them, 

338 


HIDDEN   WATERS 

they  might  have  passed  without  hindrance ;  and 
Arnaldo's  ruse  of  lying  down  as  if  for  the  night's 
sleep  within  cry  of  their  sentries  had  almost 
served,  would  have  answered,  perhaps,  to  throw 
off  pursuit ;  but  word  of  their  passing  had  reached 
Mascado,  and  acted  as  an  irritant  to  the  unhealed 
scratches  he  had  brought  away  from  Las  Chimineas. 
Mascado  had  not  two  thoughts  in  his  head 
when  he  set  himself  upon  the  trail  of  Escobar. 
He  followed  it  as  a  hound  follows  the  slot  of  a. 
stag,  merely  pursuing,  and  whetting  pursuit  by 
the  freshness  of  the  trail.  He  wished  to  come 
up  with  the  young  man,  to  take  him,  and  to  take 
him  by  his  own  hand ;  to  wreak  himself  not 
merely  on  the  inert  body,  as  he  might  have  done 
when  Isidro  lay  asleep  under  the  oak,  but  upon 
his  mind  and  spirit.  Mascado  had  a  good  hour 
of  gloating  as  he  sat  by  the  sleepers,  feeding  his 
jealous  rage  by  every  point  of  the  other's  advan 
tage  :  race,  beauty,  fine  clothing,  the  lordly  air, 
—  yet  he  held  himself  the  better  man ;  so  his 
musing  hate  advanced  by  leaps  until  it  burned 
through  the  curtain  of  oblivion  and  woke  Escobar 
from  sleep. 

339 


ISIDRO 

Mascado  should  really  have  killed  him  as  he 
lay,  for  no  sooner  was  the  caballero  awake  than 
his  spirit  was  up  to  cope  with  the  mestizo's  and 
beat  it  down.  In  the  first  of  their  encounter 
Isidro  had  saved  Mascado' s  life  from  the  buck 
that  had  him  down,  and  at  their  next  meeting, 
which  was  really  of  Mascado's  own  provoking, 
had  offered  him  fair  battle  which  had  been  taken 
unfairly.  The  sense  of  these  things  turned  the 
scale  a  little  between  them.  Isidro,  as  he  looked 
into  his  own  weapon,  yawned  to  cover  any  amaze 
ment,  looked  the  mestizo  over,  looked  up  the  trail 
and  saw  a  dozen  of  Urbano's  men  come  riding  on 
stolen  ponies,  and  turned  back  affable  and  smiling. 

"  Buenas  dias,  Mascado,"  he  said,  "  how  did 
you  get  loose  ?  " 

"  Eh,  have  you  not  heard  ?  "  said  Arnaldo, 
taking  the  cue.  "  One  beast  helps  another  out 
of  a  trap ;  his  brother  the  coyote  came  in  the 
night  and  gnawed  his  bonds." 

Mascado  flinched  at  the  insult  that  he,  who  was 
El  Capitals  best  man,  should  be  called  kin  to 
the  dog  of  the  wilderness ;  but  without  replying 
got  them  up  and  to  the  trail,  had  them  bound 

340 


HIDDEN  WATERS 

and  placed  on  their  own  horses  brought  up  by 
the  riders,  and  so  to  Urbano,  since  he  could  not 
at  that  moment  think  of  any  better  thing  to  do 
with  them.  He  would  have  liked  to  meet  Escobar 
man  to  man  as  they  had  met  at  Las  Chimi- 
neas  with  the  girl  looking  on ;  then,  —  but  he 
blinked  the  possibility  of  ending  as  the  other  en 
counter  had  ended,  —  against  all  odds  he  would 
not  miss  his  stroke  another  time.  Urbano,  how 
ever,  would  allow  no  outrage.  He  understood  too 
well  the  advantage  of  a  hostage,  and  perhaps  an 
advocate,  in  case  of  evil  days.  Mascado  would 
have  kept  the  captives  trussed  like  fowl,  but  El 
Capitan  had  a  trick  worth  two  of  that,  —  he  put 
the  young  man  upon  parole.  Urbano  was  a  man 
of  middle  years,  and  understood  the  ways  of  the 
gente  de  razon  much  as  he  understood  those  of 
deer  and  elk.  To  a  caballero  of  Isidro's  make-up 
he  realized  that  his  word  held  where  no  bonds 
would,  so  he  was  allowed  to  move  about  the  camp 
of  the  renegades  hardly  constrained,  but  making 
no  attempt  to  escape.  Arnaldo,  whose  ingenuity 
showed  him  a  thousand  expedients,  fretted  con 
tinually. 

341 


ISIDKO 

"  Let  us  be  off,"  lie  said ;  "  we  have  affairs  in 
Monterey.  What  is  your  word  to  these  swine  ?  " 

66 No  hay  cuidado"  said  Isidro;  "swine  they 
are,  but  it  is  the  word  of  an  Escobar." 

There  was  one  other  besides  Arnaldo  the 
tracker  in  the  camp  of  the  renegades  who  found 
himself  put  out  of  calculation  by  Escobar's  devo 
tion  to  his  parole.  That  was  Urbano's  right  hand, 
Mascado.  Owing  his  life  and  some  courtesy  to 
Escobar,  the  mestizo  admitted  that  he  needed 
a  provocation  to  the  attack,  —  outbreak  or  at 
tempted  escape,  or,  at  the  least,  an  occasion  for 
holding  him  in  less  esteem,  since,  though  he 
schemed  night  and  day  to  make  good  the  humil 
iation  of  Las  Chimineas  upon  the  other's  body, 
circumstances  were  in  a  fair  way  of  making  them 
friends. 

Urbano's  men  had  come  coastward  as  far  as  a 
certain  cover  of  dense  forest,  heading  up  among 
the  hills,  fortunately  situated  for  defense,  and 
admitting  of  raids  from  it  to  Santa  Clara, 
Santa  Cruz,  or  Soledad,  but  far  enough  from 
these  to  allow  of  such  twists  and  turnings  of  re 
treat  as  would  throw  pursuit  off  the  trail.  There 

342 


HIDDEN   WATERS 

was  not  one  of  the  renegades  but  believed  him 
self  better  at  such  ancient  crafts  than  any  Mis 
sion-bred  Indian  of  the  lot. 

The  main  body  of  the  cattle  thieves  did  not  go 
at  once  to  the  rendezvous,  but  spread  abroad  in 
the  country  about  Soledad,  expecting  communica 
tion  with  a  disgruntled  neophyte  within  its  walls. 
Meantime  a  dozen  of  the  less  adventurous  fight 
ing  men  and  a  few  women,  coming  on  slowly  be 
hind  the  company,  established  a  camp  and  base 
of  supplies  at  Hidden  Waters.  The  place  lay  to 
ward  the  upper  side  of  a  triangular  cape  of  woods 
that  spread  by  terraces  down  from  the  highest 
ridges  of  those  parts.  The  wood  was  fenced  on 
two  sides ;  south  by  the  Arroyo  Seco,  boulder- 
strewn  wash  of  an  intermittent  river ;  north  by  a 
wide  open  draw,  almost  a  valley,  a  loose  sandy 
soil  affording  foothold  only  for  coarse,  weedy 
grass.  Eastward  the  redwoods  thinned  out  toward 
the  high,  windy  top  of  the  ridge,  passing  into 
spare,  slanting  shrubs. 

About  the  middle  of  this  tongue  of  forest, 
one  of  the  terraces,  which  promised  from  its 
approaches  to  be  exactly  like  all  others,  hollowed 

343 


ISIDRO 

abruptly  to  a  deep  basin  of  the  extent  of  two 
hundred  varas.  On  its  farther  rim  a  consider 
able  spring  welled  insensibly  out  of  a  rock,  and, 
after  circling  the  hollow,  slipped  tinkling  under 
boulders,  to  reappear  on  a  lower  terrace  a  run 
nel  of  noisy  water.  Scattered  over  the  basin, 
islands  of  angular  rock  lifted  up  clumps  of  red 
wood  and  pine  to  the  level  of  the  unbroken  ter 
race,  and  gave  it  the  look  of  a  continuous  wood. 
Tortuous  inanzanita  clung  about  the  shelving 
rim  and  masked  the  hollow;  no  trail  led  into  it; 
the  Indians  saw  to  that;  more  than  a  rod  away 
it  would  be  scarcely  suspected.  Only  from  the 
slope  above,  looking  down,  one  might  have 
glimpses  of  wet  flowery  meadow  between  the 
tall  sequoias,  but  be  puzzled  how  to  come  at  it. 

In  this  pit  of  pleasantness,  then,  the  renegades 
made  their  camp  of  refuge,  there  to  bring  their 
prisoners  and  wounded,  or  to  lie  quiet  until  pur 
suit  had  blown  by.  Escobar,  however,  was  not  at 
first  placed  at  Hidden  Waters.  He  was,  in  fact, 
on  the  night  his  wife  and  Delgado's  party  rested 
at  Soledad,  bound  to  a  madrono  tree  not  far  from 
the  Mission  inclosure,  waiting  the  result  of  the 

344 


HIDDEN   WATERS 

raid.  He  made  out  so  much  of  Urbano's  plan, 
that  the  cattle  were  to  be  parted  in  three  bands, 
one  to  go  to  the  rendezvous  at  Hidden  Waters, 
the  other  two  by  devious  ways  to  go  east  and  east 
till  they  came  to  the  wickiups  of  home,  where  the 
women  and  children  awaited  them,  where  at  the 
worst  they  might  be  driven  into  the  marshes  of 
the  great  river  beyond  any  pursuit.  Escobar,  be 
lieving  his  wife  still  at  San  Antonio,  and  fretting 
at  his  delay,  was  driven  with  the  third  part  of  the 
cattle  to  the  camp  in  the  triangular  wood  of  se 
quoias,  Mascado  heading  that  expedition.  But  the 
renegades  missed  reckoning  with  their  own  sav 
agery.  The  detachment  having  one  band  of  cattle 
in  care  turned  in  at  Las  Chimineas  and  camped 
there  until  they  had  killed  a  beef  and  stuffed 
themselves  with  it,  being  so  overtaken  by  the 
twelve  soldiers  from  Monterey.  Themselves  they 
hid  in  the  rocks  among  the  gray  chimneys,  but 
the  cattle  they  could  not  hide.  The  soldiers  found 
these  in  the  meadow,  and  driving  them  down, 
drew  the  Indians  from  their  holes.  Then  both 
sides  smelled  powder,  saw  their  dead,  and  called 
it  war. 

345 


ISIDRO 

The  first  move  of  the  renegades  was  to  draw 
into  Hidden  Waters  to  council,  and  await  the  re 
turn  of  their  men  who  had  gone  eastward  with 
the  remaining  cattle.  This  gave  Castro  time  to 
get  his  troops  in  order,  and  Escobar  and  the 
mestizo  to  become  a  little  acquainted. 

Isidro,  always  under  necessity  of  keeping  a 
keen  edge  on  his  spirit  by  trying  it  on  another, 
used  Mascado,  who  could  no  more  keep  away 
from  him  than  an  antelope  from  a  snare.  Esco 
bar  mocked  him  and  his  new  dignities,  frothed 
his  anger  white,  or  cleared  it  away  with  nimble 
turns  of  speech,  and  Mascado  was  always  coming 
back  to  see  if  he  could  not  learn  the  trick,  or  at 
least  bear  himself  more  to  advantage.  It  was 
very  pleasant  there  at  Hidden  Waters,  the  days 
soft  and  languorously  warm,  the  nights  scented 
and  cool.  The  camp  lay  on  an  island  of  red 
woods  raised  a  few  feet  above  the  rank,  blossom 
ing  meadow.  The  litter  of  brown  needles  looked 
not  to  have  known  a  foot  for  a  hundred  years. 
Waning  lilies  stood  up  among  the  coarse  deep 
fern ;  the  wild  rose  bushes  hung  full  of  shin 
ing  scarlet  fruit.  Deer  went  by  in  troops ;  great 

346 


HIDDEN  WATERS 

nodding,  antlered  stags  came  and  looked  into 
the  hollow  with  gentle,  curious  eyes;  a  bear 
came  poking  about  the  half-ripened  manzanita 
berries  on  the  rim;  hot  noons  were  censed  by 
the  odorous  drip  of  honey  from  the  hiving  rocks. 
Scouting  parties  came  and  went  softly,  keeping 
watch  on  the  soldiers  who  had  drawn  off  to  wait 
reinforcements  from  the  Presidio.  The  camp 
needed  little  guarding;  one  man  might  keep 
watch  of  the  whole  south  side  of  the  forest, 
fenced  by  the  mile-wide  open  gully,  over  which 
not  a  crow  could  flap  unspied  upon.  On  the 
north,  sentries  were  posted  among  the  rocks, 
where  the  river,  only  such  during  the  brief  tor 
rent  of  winter  rains,  now  ran  no  farther  than  the 
point  of  fan-shaped  wood.  Higher  up  it  showed 
broad,  shallow  pools  strung  on  a  slender  thread 
of  brown  water. 

Then  came  word  of  the  Comandante's  sally 
from  Monterey,  and  Urbano  kept  away  from  the 
camp,  beginning  a  game  of  hide  and  seek  to 
draw  the  soldiers  and  all  suspicion  away  from 
Hidden  Waters,  and  tire  them  in  the  fruitless 
hills.  Then,  Mascado  being  left  with  the  rem- 

347 


ISIDRO 

nant  to  keep  the  camp,  Isidro  would  make  sport 
of  him,  gambling  every  day  afresh  with  Arnaldo 
for  the  few  coins  he  had  in  his  pocket. 

"  Why  do  you  stay  so  close  in  the  camp,  Mas- 
cado  ?  "  he  would  say.  "  Is  it  because  you  know 
the  Father  President  is  looking  for  you  ?  "  Or 
if  the  mestizo  went  abroad  in  the  wood,  "  Were 
you  looking  for  birches,  Mascado  ?  They  grow 
better  at  Carmelo,  I  am  told,  and  no  doubt  the 
Padre  has  one  peeled  for  you." 

"  At  least  they  have  no  right  to  whip  me," 
said  Mascado,  stung  to  retort.  "  My  father  was 
of  the  gente  de  razon,  though  because  the 
Church  meddled  not  at  my  begetting  they  hold 
me  as  one  of  the  Mission." 

"  Is  it  so,  seiior  ? "  said  Escobar,  with  ex 
aggerated  amazement.  "  Then  I  am  no  longer 
at  a  loss  to  account  for  your  capacity  and  dis 
cernment."  Then,  human  interest  coming  upper 
most,  "  Was  it  for  that  you  left  the  Mission  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Mascado ;  "  it  was  for  leaving 
I  was  whipped.  Much  good  may  it  do  them  !  I 
left  because,  being  a  free  man,  I  wished  to  live 

freely." 

348 


HIDDEN   WATERS 

This  was  a  sense  of  the  situation  which,  Esco 
bar  recalled,  Zarzito  had  expressed.  It  seemed 
to  him  rather  a  singular  one  for  an  Indian. 

"  In  the  Mission/'  he  said,  "  you  were  clothed 
and  fed?" 

Mascado  grunted.  "  You  also,  senor,  have 
eaten  well ;  do  you  wish  nothing  more  ?  " 

What  Escobar  wished,  very  badly,  was  to  get 
back  to  his  wife,  but  that  would  not  bear  saying. 
He  began  to  take  an  interest  in  Mascado  on  his 
own  account,  and  took  occasion  to  talk  with  him 
oftener  as  men  talk  with  men,  though  with  a 
quizzing  tone ;  and  Mascado,  being  never  able 
to  keep  up  with  his  nimble  tongue,  paid  him  an 
odd  kind  of  respect  for  it,  though  it  also  aug 
mented  his  hate.  One  thing  that  drew  him  con 
tinually  within  reach  of  Escobar's  tongue  was 
the  hope  that  he  might  drop  a  hint  of  the  Briar ; 
but  Isidro,  because  she  was  now  his  wife,  and  for 
several  reasons  he  could  not  very  well  define, 
would  not  bring  her  into  the  conversation.  That 
did  not  prevent  her  being  much  upon  his  mind. 
He  wanted  her  if  for  no  other  reason  than  to 
share  the  jest  against  Mascado  or  the  zest  of 

349 


ISIDRO 

this  entertainment  of  events.  If  she  were  but 
stretched  beside  him  on  the  brown  litter,  —  of 
course  that  could  not  be  since  she  was  a  girl,  — 
but  if  the  boy  El  Zarzo  lay  there  beside  him,  it 
would  give  new  point  to  his  invention ;  also  they 
could  watch  the  squirrels  come  and  go,  or  read 
the  fortunes  of  TJrbano  in  the  faces  of  his  men. 
And  in  the  early  dark,  when  a  musky  smell  arose 
from  the  crushed  fern,  they  might  hear  the  whis 
per  of  the  water  and  piece  out  the  sense  of  sun 
dry  chirrupings  and  rustlings  in  the  trees,  —  and 
of  course  she  might  very  well  be  lying  there  and 
no  harm,  for  was  she  not  his  wife  ?  Then  he  be 
thought  himself  that  there  were  sundry  matters 
upon  which  he  should  have  questioned  her  more 
closely.  It  became  at  once  important  to  him  to 
know  how  she  thought  upon  this  matter  or  that. 
He  had  been  wrong  to  leave  her  in  ignorance 
at  San  Antonio,  believing  herself  only  Peter  Le- 
becque's  foster  lad  when  she  was  a  great  lady 
and  an  heiress.  No  question  he  owed  her  expla 
nation  for  that.  He  began  to  hold  long  conver 
sations  with  her  in  his  mind,  in  which  everything 
conduced  to  the  best  understanding. 

With  this  he  occupied  much  of  his  time,  for 
350 


HIDDEN  WATERS 

though  he  fretted  at  the  enforced  hiatus  in  his 
affairs,  he  was  not  greatly  alarmed,  even  when 
Mascado  gloomed  on  him,  and  now  and  then  a 
wounded  man  came  into  camp  and  gave  him  black 
looks  as  being  of  the  party  that  dealt  the  wound. 
For  it  began  to  appear  that  Castro  was  not  to  be 
drawn  off  from  making  an  end  of  the  freebooters. 
He  owed  something  to  destiny  for  the  turns  she 
had  served  him;  he  wanted  nothing  so  much  as 
to  get  back  to  his  daughter ;  he  had  his  adieux 
to  make  to  the  office  of  Comandante,  —  reasons 
enough  if  a  soldier  had  wanted  any  for  pushing 
a  campaign.  He  had  scouts  as  cunning  as  any  of 
Urbano's,  and,  having  an  inkling  of  the  camp  at 
Hidden  Waters,  began  to  push  steadily  in  that 
direction.  The  renegades  had  more  than  one 
brush  with  him,  and  when  Escobar  caught  a  pre 
sage  of  defeat  in  the  air  he  left  off  bantering 
Mascado.  It  was  a  consideration  the  mestizo  felt 
himself  incapable  of  under  the  same  conditions, 
and  though  he  held  Escobar  in  a  little  less  esteem 
as  being  so  womanish  as  not  to  twit  an  enemy  in 
distress,  he,  curiously  enough,  began  to  like  him 
a  little  on  that  account. 


XXIV 

THE   LADY'S   SECOND   FLIGHT 

)  softly,  dear  lady,"  said  Marta, 
"the  horses  are  not  far.    In  that 
t  clump  of  willows  Jose  should  have 
I,    left  them.    It  is  wet  under  foot ; 

stay  you  here." 

The  night  was  soft  black,  woolly  with  sea  fog ; 
under  foot  was  the  chug  of  marsh  water  livened 
by  croaking  toads,  overhead  some  strips  of  starry 
sky  between  pale  wisps  of  cloud.  From  the  wil 
low  thicket  where  the  horses  champed  upon  their 
heavy  bits  rose  the  odor  of  crushed  spikenard. 

"  Mount  here,"  said  the  Indian  woman  ;  "  I 
must  find  a  boulder  or  a  stump ;  I  am  not  so 
young.  The  horses  are  not  much,  but  I  had  to 
give  that  Jose  two  reals  to  get  them.  He  said  the 
thing  had  a  secret  look  and  lay  upon  his  con 
science.  Ts  !  st !  Two  reals'  worth  !  Can  you 
manage  without  a  saddle  ?  " 

352 


THE   LADY'S   SECOND   FLIGHT 

"  I  have  seldom  used  one,"  said  the  girl. 

"  Now/'  said  Marta,  "  go  lightly  across  the 
field  until  we  are  safe  from  the  town  ;  then  we 
find  the  road  and  hard  riding." 

Hereabout  the  ground  was  swampy  and  sucked 
at  the  horses'  feet.  All  lights  were  out  in  Mon 
terey  ;  to  the  left  they  heard  the  rustle  of  the  tide 
along  the  foot  of  a  hanging  wall  of  fog.  The 
riders  kept  to  the  turf  for  an  hour ;  it  seemed 
longer.  The  fog  cut  in  behind  them,  flanked 
them  right  and  left,  folded  them  in  a  pit,  at  the 
top  of  which  they  could  see  some  specks  of  light 
pricked  in  the  velvet  blackness. 

Once  on  the  road  the  horses  struck  into  a  jig 
ging  trot,  which  is  the  pace  for  long  journeys 
as  a  tearing  gallop  is  for  short  ones.  Jacinta 
rocked  to  the  motion,  and  drew  deep  breaths  of 
freedom  and  relief. 

"  What  an  excellent  beast  a  horse  is ! "  she 
said.  "  How  long  shall  we  be  upon  the  road  ?  " 

"  Until  we  are  both  well  weary,"  said  Marta. 

The  girl  swung  herself  for  pure  delight  from 
one  side  of  the  horse  to  the  other. 

"  That  will  be  long,  then,"  she  said.  "  How 
353 


ISIDRO 

good  boy's  clothes  feel  again !  I  doubt  I  shall 
ever  grow  to  like  skirts." 

"  I  see  no  use  in  them  myself/'  said  the  older 
woman  ;  "  it  was  not  so  in  my  mother's  time,  but 
is  a  custom  of  the  Missions.  No  doubt  it  is  an 
offense*  to  God  to  look  on  a  priest  or  a  woman 
and  know  that  they  have  two  legs." 

"I  would  that  the  moon  shone,  —  then  we 
might  try  a  gallop,"  said  Jacinta. 

"  With  a  moon,"  said  Marta,  "  we  could  hardly 
have  come  so  easily  off  from  Monterey." 

The  girl  was  alive  with  the  joy  of  motion  and 
the  freedom  of  the  road.  She  had  a  thousand 
speculations,  questions,  and  surmises,  but  got  very 
little  out  of  the  older  woman,  whose  thoughts 
were  all  of  their  errand  and  how  to  accomplish  it. 
After  a  time  Jacinta  began  to  come  under  the 
spell  of  her  taciturnity.  The  damp  of  the  fog 
penetrated  to  the  marrow  and  dripped  from  them 
like  rain.  They  rode  and  rode.  It  should  have 
been  about  one  of  the  clock,  and  a  sea  wind  cut 
ting  the  fog  to  ribbons,  when  they  turned  from 
the  highway  into  a  deer  trail,  followed  that  until 
they  came  to  a  creek,  turned  up  it  and  kept  the 

354 


THE  LADY'S  SECOND  FLIGHT 

middle  of  the  stream  for  an  hour.  The  horses 
needed  urging  for  that  work,  —  the  water  was 
cold  and  rushing,  the  creek  bed  shifty  with  loose 
cobbles.  It  was  necessary  to  go  cautiously,  to 
break  no  smallest  bough  of  leaning  birch  and 
alder  and  so  leave  a  trail. 

"  For  we  will  surely  be  followed,"  said  the  In 
dian  woman. 

From  the  creek  they  led  the  horses  up  by  a 
stony  place  to  firmer  ground.  Jacinta  was  stiff 
with  cold,  slipped  and  stumbled. 

"  Have  a  good  heart,  my  Briar,"  said  Marta, 
"it  is  not  long  to  rest."  She  chafed  the  girl's 
hands  between  her  palms;  the  walking  relieved 
the  numbness  of  the  limbs.  Another  hour  began 
to  show  a  faint  glow  in  the  east.  They  had  come 
clear  of  the  fog,  though  the  drenching  grass 
showed  it  had  been  before  them  in  the  night. 
When  the  peaks  of  the  high  hills  eastward  be 
gan  to  show  rosily  light,  Marta  grew  talkative 
and  cheerful. 

"  It  is  not  far,  dear  lady,  it  is  near  at  hand," 
she  said.  "  I  remember  the  place  very  well ;  a 
safe  hollow  under  hanging  rocks.  It  has  a  blasted 

355 


ISIDRO 

pine  before  it.  I  was  there  with  my  father  when 
I  was  a  child,  and  that  was  the  first  time  of  my 
being  in  the  hills,  for  I  was  Mission-born.  My 
father,  though  he  was  captain  of  his  people,  had 
seen  that  the  God  of  the  Padres  was  greater  than 
his  god,  and  what  they  wrought  was  good  ;  there 
fore  he  was  baptized,  and  all  his  people.  But  he 
was  a  man  grown,  and  it  is  ill  learning  when  the 
youth  is  spent,  so  it  irked  him  to  live  always  in 
one  place,  and  because  he  was  chief  to  have  one 
say  to  him,  Stay,  and  he  should  stay.  So  when  I 
was  grown  to  the  height  of  his  thigh  he  took  me 
and  my  mother  and  came  away  in  the  night.  It 
was  the  spring  of  the  year,  about  the  time  when 
roots  began  to  be  good  to  eat  and  wood  doves 
were  calling  all  the  smoky  days.  We  came  to  this 
place  where  we  will  soon  be,  most  beautiful,  and 
it  was  all  set  about  with  flowers  by  the  spring, 
and  had  a  pleasant  smell.  Never  will  I  forget  the 
smell  of  the  young  wood  in  the  spring.  But  it 
came  up  a  storm  of  rain  and  wind,  and  my  father 
saw  that  God  was  against  him,  for  it  was  not  the 
time  of  storms.  Then  it  increased  with  thunder, 
and  fire  out  of  heaven  struck  a  great  pine  in  front 

356 


THE  LADY'S   SECOND   FLIGHT 

of  where  we  lay.  It  ran  like  a  snake  into  the 
earth,  with  a  noise  so  that  we  were  all  as  one 
dead.  Then  my  father  was  afraid,  and  he  took 
my  mother  and  me  back  to  Carmelo.  So  because 
he  came  back  of  his  own  accord,  and  because 
he  was  of  great  influence,  he  was  not  whipped. 
That  was  in  Serra' s  time." 

"  I  have  heard  Senor  Escobar  speak  of  him ; 
he  was  a  great  saint,  was  he  not  ?  " 

"  God  knows ;  he  was  a  great  man  ;  for  though 
my  father  had  seen  the  miracle  of  the  blasted 
pine  which  was  performed  for  a  warning,  he 
could  in  no  way  shut  his  mind  to  the  call  of  the 
wild.  So  at  the  time  of  the  year  when  he  was 
weary  of  his  life  because  of  it,  he  went  to  the 
Padre  Serra  and  begged  a  little  leave  to  go  into 
the  hills,  loose  and  free.  Otherwise  he  would  be 
drawn  by  the  evil  of  his  heart  to  run  away  and 
bring  great  scandal  on  the  community,  and  on 
himself  the  wrath  of  God.  Now  look  you,  it  may 
be  that  the  Padre  was  a  saint,  for  my  father  has 
told  me  that  no  sooner  had  the  word  passed  be 
tween  them  than  he  felt  the  evil  go  out  of  him 
like  sickness.  And  when  Serra  had  considered 

357 


ISIDRO 

the  matter,  he  sent  my  father  apart  into  the  hills 
to  gather  herbs ;  and  so  every  year.  At  the  end 
of  a  month  my  father  came  again  to  Carmelo,  and 
there  was  no  further  talk  of  running  away.  Af 
terward  my  father  took  me  with  him  and  taught 
me  the  virtues  of  all  plants.  Padre  Serra  wished 
the  knowledge  not  to  die  out  among  his  people. 
He  told  my  father  once  he  had  been  cured  of  an 
ulcer  by  the  use  of  Indian  herbs.  That  was  how  I 
came  to  know  this  place,  for  as  often  as  we  came 
we  rested  here  the  first  night,  and  saw  the  blasted 
pine  pointing  like  the  finger  of  God." 

It  was  full  moon  when  they  came  to  the  place 
of  hanging  rocks  and  found  deer  tracks  in  the 
soft  mud  by  the  spring.  An  evergreen  oak  grew 
out  of  a  cleft  of  the  rocks  and,  spreading  down 
ward,  formed  a  screen.  Here  they  cooked  a  meal, 
and  when  Jacinta  had  eaten  she  stretched  her 
limbs  and  slept  with  her  head  on  the  Indian  wo 
man's  knee.  Marta  waked  her  in  an  hour,  and 
though  the  night's  excitement  and  hard  riding 
left  her  stiff  and  fagged  she  set  her  face  and 
rode  steadily  through  the  blazing  sun. 

They  took  some  degree  of  caution  as  they 
358 


THE  LADY'S  SECOND  FLIGHT 

went,  looking  out  from  every  high  ridge,  but  saw 
nothing  moving,  neither  Indians  nor  soldiers. 
They  watched  too,  as  they  rose  on  the  crest  of 
the  range,  the  white  Mission  road  like  a  snake 
among  the  pines,  but  saw  no  shadow  of  pursuit 
upon  it.  The  news  of  their  flight  was  not  con 
firmed  at  Monterey  until  mid-morning  of  that 
day. 

They  rode  without  talking,  drank  at  springs, 
ate  what  they  had  with  them,  and  though  the 
girl  bent  heavily  forward  on  her  horse  with  sleep, 
Marta  allowed  no  rest  until  four  of  the  afternoon, 
when  they  had  come  to  a  little  meadow  beset 
with  trees,  which  she  judged  safe,  and  affording 
pasture  for  the  horses.  They  rested  here  for  the 
night. 

Thereafter  they  had  no  thought  of  interference 
from  Monterey,  but  bent  all  upon  getting  to  the 
camp  of  the  renegades.  The  night's  rest  put 
them  in  better  trim  for  what  was  before  them. 
Jacinta  had  times  of  trembling,  falling  sick  and 
afraid,  thinking  how  she  would  present  herself  to 
Escobar  in  boy's  dress  when  his  expressed  wish 
was  that  she  should  remain  at  San  Antonio  in 

359 


ISIDRO 

proper  guise.  She  wished  to  talk  of  him,  but 
Marta  would  hear  only  of  Mascado.  Nothing 
strange,  she  said,  that  he  should  take  to  the 
mountains  and  freedom  from  the  law,  for  he  was 
begotten  in  lawlessness  in  these  same  hills.  It 
was  a  famine  time  in  the  Mission,  when  the  old 
corn  was  exhausted  and  the  new  corn  just  spring 
ing  in  the  field,  and  the  men  of  the  Mission  were 
sent  out  to  seek  their  meat  from  God. 

"  I  had  come,"  she  said,  "  with  Manuel  and  his 
wife  and  a  party  of  hunters,  she  to  cook  and  I  to 
gather  roots.  It  was  a  golden  time,  and  the  quail 
went  up  in  pairs  to  the  nesting.  Hereabouts  we 
fell  in  with  a  party  of  soldiers  from  Santa  Clara 
hunting  for  runaways  from  their  Mission.  Mas- 
cado's  father  was  a  soldier.  It  is  true  I  was  taken 
by  force,  but  my  heart  consented.  It  was  mat 
ing  weather  and  we  both  young.  When  all  was 
known  the  Padre  would  have  had  us  to  marry, 
but  it  was  discovered  he  had  a  wife  already. 
Santa  Maria  !  it  was  no  doubt  a  great  sin,  but 
my  heart  consented." 

By  this  time,  although  they  had  seen  no  In 
dians,  they  knew  well  enough  by  the  stillness  of 

360 


THE   LADY'S  SECOND   FLIGHT 

the  wood  that  they  had  come  within  their  borders. 
No  deer  cropped  by  the  water  courses,  no  beasts 
larger  than  the  squirrels  were  stirring  or  abroad, 
rabbits  cowered  trembling  in  the  thickets,  or  ran 
like  gray  flashes  in  the  meadow,  proof  enough 
that  they  had  been  lately  hunted.  The  gossip 
ing  jays  let  them  pass  with  no  outcry,  sign  that 
men  were  no  strange  sight  to  them.  Marta  would 
be  often  getting  down  from  her  horse  to  study 
signs  unguessed  by  the  girl,  muttering  to  herself 
or  breaking  out  with  snatches  of  reminiscence  of 
the  youth  of  Mascado.  Her  mind  dwelt  more  and 
more  upon  him  as  they  went  through  the  wood, 
tiptoe  with  expectancy.  Once  they  made  sure  of 
an  Indian  moving  at  a  distance  parallel  to  their 
course,  possibly  spying  upon  them,  but  they  could 
not  come  up  with  him  nor  get  speech.  Here  the 
forest  grew  more  openly,  and  they  rode  abreast, 
steering  by  certain  points  of  the  hills,  but  keep 
ing  a  sharp  lookout  for  signs.  They  had  so  ar 
ranged  their  course  that  they  would  strike  the 
corner  of  the  forest  where  the  Indians  had  their 
camp  at  about  midway  of  one  side  of  the  triangle. 
To  do  this  they  had  to  cross  the  stony  open  space 

361 


ISIDRO 

that  fenced  it  from  the  rest  of  the  tree-covered 
country,  at  that  point  nearly  a  mile  of  tedious 
riding. 

It  was  while  they  were  picking  a  way  among 
broken  boulders  that  they  heard  afar  off,  toward 
the  point  of  the  fan-shaped  wood,  the  noise  of 
firing.  The  shots  came  faintly  and  confused, 
mere  popping  and  bluster,  and  held  on  at  the 
same  rate  for  as  long  as  the  horses  stumbled  in 
the  stony  waste,  and  at  last  drew  near  and  sharper. 
But  it  seemed  to  them  then  and  afterward  that 
they  had  a  sound  different  from  all  other  shots, 
biting  and  waspish.  It  seemed  as  if  a  prescience 
of  disaster  settled  upon  them  as  they  entered  the 
rustling  tongue  of  woods.  The  light  was  low  and 
came  slanting  and  yellowly  through  the  pines. 
Fragments  of  lost  winds  went  mournfully  among 
the  trees.  The  two  women  pressed  close  together, 
crowding  the  horses  on  toward  Hidden  Waters. 
They  had  not  the  material  for  guesses  or  sur 
mises.  The  firing  had  fallen  off,  but  not  the 
sense  of  battle,  which  rested  on  them  like  a  thing 
palpable.  The  common  noises  of  the  wood  were 
of  ominous  presage.  Suddenly  Marta  laid  a  hand 

362 


THE  LADY'S   SECOND   FLIGHT 

on  the  other's  bridle ;  the  two  horses  were  neck 
and  neck ;  from  the  close  thickets  before  them 
an  Indian  broke  running,  his  bonnet  of  feathers 
torn  by  the  hanging  boughs,  the  streaks  of  paint 
on  his  body  smudged  with  blood  ;  his  gun  trailed 
uncocked  from  his  hand.  Beyond  him  were  three 
others  bent  and  running,  with  broken  bows. 
Then  one  plunged  through  the  buckthorn,  pant 
ing,  swinging  a  maimed  arm,  welling  blood  from 
a  shoulder  wound.  His  legs  crumpled  under  him 
from  weakness,  but  he  sprang  up  with  a  bound 
and  died  in  mid  air,  dropping  limply  back  to 
earth. 

"  Beaten,  beaten,"  said  Marta.  Her  voice  was 
a  mere  whisper,  but  it  took  on  a  tinge  of  a  savage 
wail.  The  place  seemed  full  of  flying  Indians. 
They  came  in  groups,  sometimes  supporting  the 
wounded,  but  mostly  these  were  left  to  them 
selves,  trailing  the  blood  of  their  hurts  across  the 
sod.  A  panic  of  haste  laid  hold  of  the  two 
women ;  they  pressed  the  horses,  but  kept  with 
the  main  body  of  the  fleeing,  dreading  as  much 
to  be  alone  ahead  of  them  as  behind.  It  was 
frank  and  open  flight ;  where  the  trees  parted  to 

363 


ISIDRO 

a  kind  of  swale  or  draw,  smooth  and  treeless,  the 
lines  of  refugees  converged,  making  for  the 
easiest  path  toward  Hidden  Waters.  It  was  here 
the  women  had  first  sight  of  Mascado.  He  came 
out  of  the  forest  on  their  right,  fit  to  burst  with 
running,  holding  a  spear  wound  in  his  side,  the 
blood  of  which  ran  down  between  his  fingers. 
He  was  sick  and  reeling  with  fatigue.  Marta 
saw  him  first.  Jacinta  had  no  eyes  but  for  the 
trail,  no  fears  but  for  Escobar.  The  Indian 
woman's  first  impulse  was  to  get  down  from  her 
horse  in  the  common  extremity  of  haste  when  it 
seems  nothing  carries  so  fast  as  one's  own  feet. 
She  went  ploughing  across  the  meadow,  pulling 
the  horse,  panting,  not  sparing  breath  to  cry  out ; 
he  not  observing  her,  but  running  with  his  head 
down  like  a  dog ;  both  forging  forward,  but  slant 
wise  of  the  swale,  so  that  they  came  together  at 
the  head  of  the  open  where  it  merged  again  into 
the  wood.  They  bumped  together  as  not  being 
able  to  check  the  speed  of  their  flight,  and  Marta 
had  her  arms  about  him  to  steady  him  from  the 
shock.  He  shook  her  off,  not  yet  recognizing  his 
mother,  and  at  that  moment  Jacinta,  who  had 

364 


THE  LADY'S  SECOND   FLIGHT 

followed  Marta' s  lead  without  understanding  it, 
drew  up  and  dismounted  beside  them. 

Mascado  shook  the  mist  of  wounds  and  bat 
tle  out  of  his  eyes  and  saw  her  there  in  her 
boy's  dress,  the  same  slim  lad  of  the  Grapevine, 
rounded  and  ripened  to  the  woman  of  his  desire. 
It  flashed  on  him  that  she  had  sought  him  in  the 
forest  as  the  partridge  comes  shyly  to  the  drum 
ming  of  her  mate,  come  of  her  own  accord  to 
the  call  of  the  tribesman,  his,  his,  and  the  savage 
in  him  cried  with  delight ;  from  the  conscious 
ness  of  the  finer  strain  that  lay  fallow  in  him 
swept  up  a  flood  of  self-abasement  that  made 
his  love  clean  for  her  handling.  Then  all  went 
down  before  the  common,  curious  wonder  of  her 
glance.  He  threw  open  his  hands  with  the  mo 
tion  of  defeat. 

"  Son,  son,  you  are  hurt ! "  cried  Marta.  The 
blood  welled  from  his  side,  and  he  drooped  down 
ward,  grunting.  Marta  eased  him  to  the  ground, 
tore  strips  from  her  dress  and  bound  up  the 
gash,  a  lance  thrust,  Jacinta  fetching  water 
from  a  creek  that  babbled  mindlessly  among  the 
grass.  The  act  and  her  quiet  rendering  of  it 

365 


ISIDRO 

brought  the  flying  braves  to  check.  They  went 
more  collectedly,  realized  the  falling  off  of  pur 
suit,  took  time  to  help  the  wounded,  came  and 
offered  themselves  to  Mascado,  now  as  much 
ashamed  of  his  faintness  as  of  dishonor.  They 
got  him  on  Marta's  horse ;  Jacinta  gave  hers  to 
a  man  with  a  gunshot  wound  in  his  knee.  The 
party  drew  together  in  better  shape,  and  still 
hurrying,  but  without  panic,  began  to  move 
toward  the  camp  at  Hidden  Waters. 


XXV 

IN  WHICH  MASCADO  HEARS  NEWS 

HE  keepers  of  the  carnp  lay  supine 
in  the  late  yellow  light,  on  beds 
of  skins  or  heaped  brown  needles 
of  the  pines,  following  the  shade 
around.  The  women,  of  whom  there  were 
three  or  four  with  the  renegades,  stooped 
at  their  interminable  puttering  housewifery 
by  the  cold  ashes  of  their  careless  hearths. 
Isidro  lay  apart  from  the  camp.  He 
had  his  back  to  the  Indians,  and  stared 
into  the  hot  sunshine  lying  heavily  on  the 
fern  beginning  to  curl  brownly  at  the  edges. 
Fading  torches  of  castilleia  stood  up  here  and 
there,  and  tall  yellow  lilies  running  fast  to  seed. 
The  air  above  the  meadow  was  weighted  with  the 
scent  of  the  sun-steeped  fern ;  small  broken  winds 
wafted  it  to  him,  palpable,  like  wisps  of  blown  hair. 
It  recalled  a  day  when  a  gust  of  warm  sweet  rain 
had  sent  him  and  the  lad  to  shelter  under  a  ma- 

367 


ISIDRO 

drono  on  the  hill  above  Monterey.  They  had  to 
run  for  it,  crowding  against  the  tree  bole  shoulder 
to  shoulder,  with  the  boy's  hair  blown  across  his 
cheek.  He  was  conscious  of  a  thrill  that  flew  to 
his  heart  at  the  recollection  and  settled  there. 

Arnaldo  lay  on  the  earth  the  full  width  of  the 
camp  from  Escobar.  He  seemed  asleep,  and  now 
drew  up  a  limb  and  now  thrust  it  out  in  the  abandon 
of  drowsing  indolence.  Every  move  carried  him 
an  inch  or  two  nearer  the  edge  of  the  rose  thickets 
and  deep  fern.  Arnaldo  was,  in  fact,  widest 
awake  of  any  at  Hidden  Waters,  bent  upon  a 
series  of  experiments  to  discover  how  far  and  by 
what  means  he  could  get  away  from  the  camp 
without  exciting  suspicion.  For  the  tracker  had 
made  up  his  mind  to  escape.  Devotion  to  Esco 
bar,  in  whose  service  he  held  himself  to  be,  had 
kept  him  faithful  to  his  bonds,  but  now  the  virtue 
was  gone  out  of  patience.  He  understood  better 
than  Escobar  how  the  campaign  went  against  the 
renegades,  and  in  the  event  of  Urbano's  absence 
at  any  critical  moment  of  defeat,  doubted  if  Mas- 
cado  would  have  the  ability  or  the  wish  to  save 
his  prisoners.  Besides,  the  tracker  was  greatly 

368 


IN  WHICH  MASCADO   HEARS   NEWS 

bored  by  the  company  of  the  renegades ;  the 
food  was  poor,  and  Isidro  had  no  more  cigar 
ettes,  and  though  he  managed  to  win  all  the 
young  man's  coin  at  cards  one  day,  Escobar  as 
regularly  won  it  back  the  next.  The  escape  must 
be  made  good  in  broad  day,  when  the  prisoners 
had  the  freedom  of  the  camp,  being  bound  at 
night  and  placed  between  watchers.  Therefore 
he  lay  awake  and  experimented  while  the  camp 
dozed.  Being  so  alert,  he  caught  the  first  motion 
of  approach,  and  guessed  what  it  augured  by  the 
manner  of  it.  The  noise  of  battle  had  not  pene 
trated  so  far  in  the  thick  wood ;  the  panic  of 
flight,  sobered  by  distance,  brought  the  refugees 
up  at  nearly  their  normal  discretion.  They  came 
noiselessly  enough,  dropping  from  the  trackless 
stony  rim  of  the  hollow,  or  by  secret  trails  through 
the  manzanita.  They  cast  down  their  arms  as 
they  came,  and  trod  upon  them  with  moccasined 
feet ;  they  dropped  to  earth  by  the  unlit  hearths 
and  turned  their  backs  upon  their  kind.  One 
who  had  broken  his  bow  across  his  knee  stood  up 
and  made  a  song  of  it,  treading  upon  the  frag 
ments  as  he  sang. 

369 


ISIDRO 

This  is  the  bow  —  the  war-weapon, 

The  heart  of  a  juniper  tree. 

False,  false  is  the  heart, 

For  it  answered  not  to  the  cord, 

For  it  spake  not  truly  the  will  of  the  bowman. 

"  Ai,  ai,  ai!"  rose  the  wail  of  the  women  ; 
they  beat  upon  their  breasts  and  cast  ash^s  on 
their  unbound  hair.  \ 

"  Ai,  ai!  —  false  is  the  bow/'  they  chanted. 

The  voice  of  the  singer  rose  bleak  and  bitter, 
and  this  was  the  sense  of  his  broken  words,  sighs, 
gesticulations,  and  wild  intoning  :  — 

It  is  the  arrow  —  slender  reed  of  the  river, 

The  feathered  reed,  the  swift-flier, 

The  reed  that  stings  like  a  snake, 

That  speaks  of  death  to  the  foeman, 

Like  a  snake  it  is  false  to  the  bowstring, 

Like  the  snake  of  two  tongues  it  speaks  falsely. 

Mascado  came  haltingly  into  the  isle  of  pines, 
and  held  up  his  hand ;  the  song  and  the  wailing 
ceased. 

"  Faugh  !  "  he  said ;  "  ye  sing  and  ye  weep, 
but  ye  will  not  fight,  frightened  at  the  sound  of 
guns  as  children  at  thunder,  beaten  upon  your 
own  ground  !  Weep,  then,  for  ye  cannot  fight !  " 

370 


IN  WHICH  MASCADO  HEARS  NEWS 

The  men  took  the  whips  of  his  scorn  in  silence, 
but  Marta's  motherliness  was  proof  against  the 
occasions.  "  Neither  will  you  fight  any  more, 
my  son,  if  you  lie  not  down  and  let  me  tend 
your  wound."  He  turned  from  her  and  dropped 
sullenly  upon  the  ground.  . 

Isidro  had  drawn  in  toward  the  group  of 
wounded  with  the  natural  motion  of  curiosity  and 
concern.  The  prolonged  dribble  of  fugitives  over 
the  rim  of  the  hollow,  the  distress  of  their  hurts, 
the  noiseless  effect  of  hurry  and  disaster,  involved 
him  in  the  sense  of  defeat.  Being  so  fine  as  to 
feel  that,  he  was  too  fine  not  to  be  conscious  of 
the  isolation  made  for  him,  as  a  party  of  the 
enemy,  by  the  indrawing  of  their  thoughts  upon 
their  own  concerns.  The  best  help  he  could  offer 
was  the  turning  of  his  back  upon  their  shameful 
hour. 

The  sun,  sloping  far  to  seaward,  parted  the 
shadows  of  the  pines  in  slender  files  by  long 
paths  of  light  that  led  the  eye  away  from  the 
prone  and  sullen  fighting  men  toward  the  lonely 
wood.  Isidro  let  his  gaze  rove  down  the  yellow 
lane,  walked  toward  the  outskirts  of  the  camp, 

371 


ISIDRO 

leaned  his  back  against  a  tree,  looking  into  the 
shadowy  hollow  of  Hidden  Waters,  thinking 
homesickly  of  El  Zarzo,  and  turning  presently, 
obedient  to  the  instinct  which  warns  of  approach 
ing  presence,  saw  her  there.  She  stood  beyond 
him  in  the  shadow,  where  the  sunbeams  filtering 
through  the  boughs  of  pines  spread  a  vapor  thin 
and  blue,  —  the  erect  young  figure  and  the  level, 
unfrightened  gaze.  He  could  have  touched  her 
where  she  stood,  but  made  no  motion  ;  his  pulse 
leaped  toward  her  with  the  tug  of  his  startled 
spirit. 

"  Lad,  lad,"  he  whispered. 

"  Senor,"  she  breathed. 

A  long  flight  of  time  went  over  them  while 
they  stood  in  the  shadow  and  each  grew  aware, 
without  so  much  as  daring  to  look,  what  absence 
and  circumstance  had  wrought  upon  the  other. 
A  keen  and  sudden  whistling  shocked  their 
spirits  back  to  the  sense  of  things,  as  the  naked 
blade  of  a  knife  flashed  between  them  and  sunk 
to  the  hilt  in  the  earth  at  their  feet.  Back  in  the 
camp  Mascado  had  half  raised  himself  from  his 
bed  to  throw  it,  and  now  leaned  upon  his  elbow 

372 


IN   WHICH  MASCADO   HEARS   NEWS 

watching  them  with  keen  darts  of  hate.  They 
saw  the  weary  and  sullen  braves  turn  toward  him 
with  momentary  amazement,  and  Marta  running 
to  ease  him  to  the  ground  with  a  steady  flow  of 
talk,  presenting  her  broad  back  as  a  screen  be 
tween  the  pair  and  him.  The  knife  handle  still 
quivered  in  the  sod. 

"  Now  if  he  were  not  already  a  fallen  man  I 
could  kill  him  for  that,"  said  Isidro. 

"  Let  him  be,"  said  the  girl ;  "  Marta  has 
much  to  say  to  him." 

"  And  I  to  you,  Lady  Wife ;  I  left  you  safe  at 
San  Antonio  ;  how  comes  it  that  you  are  here  ?  " 

It  was  a  long  story,  and  the  best  telling  of  it 
would  have  left  something  wanting  to  a  full  un 
derstanding.  Jacinta  lifted  up  her  eyes  and  laid 
it  bare.  Isidro  could  not  escape  the  conviction 
that  this  detached  young  spirit  loved  him,  and 
for  a  man  who  meant  to  make  a  priest  of  himself 
took  it  light-heartedly. 

"  I  did  wrong,"  he  said,  "  to  leave  you  so ; 
wrong,  again,  not  to  go  straight  to  you  from 
Peter  Lebecque's.  Will  you  sit  ?  There  is  much 

to  tell." 

373 


ISIDEO 

They  sat  down  on  the  strong  roots  of  the  red 
wood.  Mascado's  knife  stuck  in  the  ground 
between  them.  They  told  their  story  in  concert, 
capping  each  other's  adventures  with  coinci 
dences  of  time  and  occasion,  with  now  and  then 
a  shy  hint  of  explanation  of  motive  or  impulse, 
not  clear  but  wonderfully  satisfactory.  They 
thrilled  together  over  the  fact  of  their  nearness 
on  the  night  of  the  raid  at  Soledad,  and  discov 
ered  in  themselves  on  that  occasion  presentiments 
that  should  have  warned  each  of  the  other's  prox 
imity.  They  touched  lightly  on  the  reasons  for 
Jacinta's  flight  toward  Hidden  Waters.  She 
was  afraid,  she  said,  lest  Mascado  should  do  him 
harm,  and  only  Marta  could  persuade  Mascado ; 
this  did  not  quite  account  for  Jacinta,  but  they 
let  it  go  at  that. 

The  light  failed  out  of  the  hollow,  and  little 
fires  began  to  glow  among  the  dead  leaves.  An 
Indian  woman  brought  them  food  heaped  on  a 
piece  of  bark.  Pungent  odors  of  night-blooming 
plants  came  out  of  the  meadow,  and  the  wind 
creaked  the  drowsy  redwoods.  Jacinta  told  of 
her  night's  sally  from  Monterey,  the  long  strain 

374 


IN  WHICH  MASCADO  HEARS  NEWS 

of  riding,  the  shock  of  the  battle  and  retreat. 
Isidro's  hand  crept  out  along  the  gnarly  roots ; 
another  hand  fluttered  toward  it  and  lay  softly 
in  its  grasp. 

"  Oh,  my  Briar,  Wild  Rose  of  the  Mountain,  was 
it  worth  while  to  endure  so  long,  to  risk  so  much?" 

"  It  was  worth,"  she  whispered. 

An  Indian  came  up  and  plucked  Isidro  silently 
from  the  earth  and  led  him  to  his  bonds.  The 
girl  crept  away  to  Marta.  Mascado's  knife  stuck 
still  in  the  ground. 

The  first  thing  Isidro  did  in  the  morning, 
when  he  had  his  freedom,  was  to  pull  up  the 
blade  and  carry  it  to  Mascado.  The  renegade's 
face  was  set  in  its  usual  lines  of  severity,  but  the 
rage  and  sweat  of  battle,  the  drain  of  his  wound, 
more  than  all,  the  fever  of  his  night's  musing  on 
Marta's  news,  had  not  left  him  without  traces. 
He  sat  with  his  back  to  a  tree,  and  his  eyes 
were  dull;  he  dropped  the  knife  in  its  sheath, 
and  turned  away.  Marta  and  Escobar  exchanged 
glances. 

"  He  knows  ?  "  questioned  one.  "  Knows  all/' 
answered  the  other. 

375 


ISIDRO 

The  young  man  turned  back  to  Mascado. 
"My  wife,  Senora  Escobar/'  he  said,  "the  Co- 
mandante's  daughter,  comes  to  no  harm  ?  "  It 
was  put  as  a  question,  but  appeared  a  threat. 

Mascado,  who  was  at  the  ebb  of  spirit  and 
strength,  made  a  motion  of  negative. 

66 1  am  surety  for  that,"  said  Marta.  Urbano's 
lieutenant  roused ;  he  was  not  yet  at  the  point 
of  letting  a  woman  speak  for  him. 

"  She  needs  no  surety,"  he  said.  He  rose  up 
stiffly,  hesitated,  and  turned.  "Even  now  we 
hold  a  council ;  it  will  be  as  well  she  remains  a 
boy  in  the  eyes  of  the  camp,  and  is  not  seen  too 
much  with  the  prisoners." 

"  You  know  best,"  said  Escobar  with  no  trace 
of  raillery.  It  was  the  first  word  that  had  passed 
between  them  concerning  the  girl,  since  Las 
Chimineas.  Once  spoken  it  bound  them  together 
for  her  protection,  and  they  began  to  grow  in 
each  other's  esteem. 

Maybe  Mascado's  wound  had  drained  a  little 
of  the  graceless  savage  out  of  him.  As  the  affair 
stood  it  was  too  big  for  him.  He  believed  Ja- 
cinta  to  be  a  wife  in  fact  and  Castro's  daughter. 

376 


IN  WHICH  MASCADO  HEAKS  NEWS 

Escobar  had  beaten  him,  and  so  had  the  Coman- 
dante.  He  felt  the  girl  immeasurably  removed 
from  him ;  if  it  came  to  that,  in  her  dispassionate 
contempt  she  had  beaten  him  worst  of  all.  What 
he  might  have  thought  had  he  been  whole  and 
his  men  undaunted  is  another  matter,  —  one  does 
not  often  think  unharnessed  by  conditions. 

Isidro  saw  the  force  of  Mascado's  warning  in 
the  sour  looks  he  had  from  the  defeated  rene 
gades  drawing  in  to  council.  It  threatened  open 
hostility  at  the  discovery  that  Arnaldo  the  tracker 
was  missing.  It  was  surmised  that  in  the  con 
fusion  he  had  slipped  away  to  bring  Castro  down 
upon  them.  Isidro  was  genuinely  put  out  by  the 
breach  of  faith. 

"  A  graceless  dog,"  he  said  to  Mascado.  "  He 
knew  I  had  passed  my  word,  and  as  my  servant 
should  have  been  bound  by  it." 

"  It  is  not  much  matter ;  Castro  would  find 
us  in  a  few  days  at  most,"  said  Mascado  dully ; 
"but  the  men  believe  you  concerned  in  it;  I 
have  ordered  that  you  be  bound." 

Bound  he  was  with  the  most  ungentle  han 
dling.  So  much  of  an  explanation  was  almost  an 

377 


ISIDRO 

apology.  It  irked  Mascado  exceedingly  to  seem 
at  that  time  to  push  his  advantage  against  Es 
cobar.  Dumbly  he  was  trying  to  pull  himself 
up  to  the  other  man's  standard  of  magnanimous 
behavior. 

Scouts  were  out  to  try  to  intercept  Arnaldo 
and  to  keep  watch  of  Castro's  men.  The  coun 
cil  proceeded  heavily ;  men  spoke  at  long  inter 
vals  with  dragging  speech  ;  gusty  flaws  of  passion 
broke  out  and  fell  away  as  the  smoke  of  the 
camp-fire  dropped  back  to  earth  in  the  heavy  air. 
One  of  the  wounded  had  died  in  the  night,  and 
his  kin  sat  around  him  with  pitch  smeared  on 
their  faces,  raising  the  death  song  in  a  hushed, 
mutilated  cry.  The  pine  wood,  the  over-ripe 
grasses,  the  fruiting  shrubs,  looked  skimp  and 
dingy  in  the  hot,  straight  beams  of  the  sun. 

Isidro  had  only  a  few  words  with  Jacinta  as 
she  strayed  near  him  in  Marta's  company,  and 
those  went  contrarily,  for  mindful  of  the  mestizo's 
hint,  he  avoided  her  pointedly.  "  Keep  away," 
he  warned,  "  otherwise  you  may  draw  their  wrath 
upon  you." 

"  You  did  wrong,"  she  said,  "  to  give  back 
378 


IN  WHICH  MASCADO  HEARS  NEWS 

Mascado's  knife  ;  you  should  have  kept  it  against 
need." 

"  Mascado  himself  will  use  it  better  in  your 
defense,"  said  Escobar.  "  Are  you  armed  ?  " 

"  I  have  a  pistol  that  I  brought  from  my 
father's  house." 

"If  the  worst  comes/'  said  Isidro,  strained 
with  anxiety,  "  stay  close  by  Marta,  turn  your 
back,  and  make  no  motion  to  be  of  my  party. 
You  will  be  safest  so." 

"  I  will  not  twice  bestow  my  company  where 
it  is  not  wanted,"  said  the  girl  stiffly. 

"  Eh,  my  Briar,"  said  Isidro,  "  will  you  still 
prick  ?  "  But  the  girl  had  turned  away. 

The  tension  of  strained  nerves  increased  with 
the  day.  The  air  was  close ;  it  quivered  above 
the  meadow,  and  breathed  like  cotton  wool.  To 
ward  mid-morning  they  heard  the  long-drawn, 
dolorous  whine  of  a  coyote,  singular  and  terrify 
ing  for  that  time  of  day.  Hearing  it,  one  of  the 
naked  savages  shivered  in  the  sun.  One  laughed, 
and  in  a  twinkling  knives  were  out. 

"  Down,  fools  !  "  roared  Mascado. 

They  sat  down,  sheepish  and  sullen.  Flocks 
379 


ISIDRO 

of  quail  began  to  go  by  in  numbers ;  their  alarm 
calls  sounded  thickly  in  the  wood.  Touching  the 
rim  of  the  meadow  they  broke  into  whirring 
flight,  running  and  flying  alternately  as  they 
struck  the  farther  side.  A  bear  pushed  east 
ward,  snorting  heavily  with  haste  ;  squirrels  began 
to  move  in  the  same  direction  with  flying  leaps. 
From  the  forest  sounded  short  throaty  howls  of 
coyotes  going  by.  Several  of  the  Indians  stood 
up,  nosing  the  air  like  hounds. 

It  was  about  noon  of  the  sun.  There  began 
to  be  a  faint  smell  of  smoke.  Isidro  thought  it 
came  from  the  camp-fire,  but  one  of  the  rene 
gades  went  and  stamped  it  out.  There  was  dis 
tinctly  an  acrid  smell  as  of  green  wood  burning. 
Suddenly  one  of  the  scouts  broke  running  from 
the  lower  edge  of  the  meadow  passing  through 
the  camp. 

"  Fire !  "  he  said.  "  Forest  fire  !  "  and  went  on 
running. 

Fretting  to  get  back  to  his  daughter  at  Mon 
terey,  and  finding  any  other  method  of  driving 
the  renegades  from  their  stronghold  too  tedious 
and  costly  of  men,  Castro  had  fired  the  wood. 

380 


XXVI 


FOREST   FIRE 

T  the  first  shock  of  the  scout's  warn 
ing  cry  the  camp  at  Hidden  Waters 
stiffened  into  instant  attention,  and 
instantly  afterward,  as  if  from  the 
twang  of  a  bowstring,  several  of  the  braves  set 
off  running  in  the  same  direction  as  the  wild 
creatures  had  gone  all  that  day.  There  were 
others  who  ran  about  crazily,  picking  up  belong 
ings  and  dropping  them,  recollecting  themselves, 
and  going  on  over  the  edge  of  the  hollow  with 
the  flights  of  quail.  The  wounded  cried  out 
upon  the  others  for  help  ;  all  were  running  and 
in  commotion,  dizzily,  as  men  run  in  dreams. 
The  wife  of  the  dead  man  began  to  run,  came 
back,  and  lifted  him  by  the  shoulders,  dragging 
him  a  pace  or  two  on  the  slippery  needles,  then 
dropping  him,  ran  on  into  the  deep  fern. 

Isidro  had  hardly  grasped  the  words  of  the 
warning,  but  he  understood  the  smell  of  burning, 

381 


ISIDRO 

the  hurry  of  the  camp,  and  the  crash  of  deer  like 
gray  darts  through  the  underbrush.  He  looked 
once  at  his  bonds,  and  then  around  for  Jacinta. 
He  saw  her  running  with  her  arms  outspread, 
and  observed  that  Mascado  came  toward  him  has 
tily  with  his  knife  out,  and  the  girl  made  as  if 
to  intercept  him.  Mascado  avoided  her,  and  put 
his  keen  blade  to  the  rawhide  thongs  that  held 
Escobar  hand  and  foot.  He  drew  him  up  from 
the  earth,  and  shook  him  as  if  to  relieve  the 
cramping  of  his  limbs.  Thought  seemed  to 
translate  itself  into  action  without  sound.  Esco 
bar  and  the  mestizo  took  the  girl  between  them 
and  set  off  in  the  wake  of  the  flying  camp, 
Marta  laboring  alongside  them.  She  was  middle- 
aged  and  fat ;  she  could  offer  Mascado  no  help, 
nor  could  he  on  account  of  his  wound  do  any 
thing  for  her.  Jacinta  ran  lightly  between  the 
two  men. 

"  Not  so  fast,"  said  Mascado  ;  "  there  is  worse 

yet." 

After  that  no  one  spoke. 
The  forest  of  Hidden  Waters  was  perhaps  ten 
miles  in  extent,  from  the  point  where  the  Ar- 

382 


FOREST   FIRE 

royo  Seco  cut  the  open  swale  diagonally  to  its 
thinning  out  on  the  crest  of  the  range.  Castro 
had  started  the  fire  at  the  lowest  point  of  the 
triangle,  and  at  several  places  along  the  open 
side,  favored  by  the  light  wind  which  blew  diag 
onally  up  the  slope.  On  the  farther  side  Hid 
den  Waters  was  divided  from  the  rest  of  the 
wooded  region,  which  went  on  sparsely  after  that 
by  the  stony  wash  of  the  Arroyo  Seco.  The  path 
of  the  intermittent  river  lay  dry  at  this  season 
for  more  than  half  its  length.  Nearer  its  source 
a  brownish  stream  spread  thinly  over  a  rocky 
bottom,  and  filled  into  boulder-rimmed  pools 
that  purled  over  gently  to  lower  levels  when 
the  stream  pinched  out  at  last  in  sandy  shoals. 
The  wash  of  the  river  was  steep  and  choked  with 
water-smoothed  stones,  widened  at  intervals  to 
several  hundred  yards,  or  narrowing  to  a  stone's 
throw  between  points  of  boulder-anchored  pines. 
It  was  usually  just  at  the  entrance  of  one  of 
these  defiles  that  the  pools  occurred.  A  chain  of 
them,  threaded  on  the  slender  rill,  lay  about  five 
miles  from  the  camp  of  the  renegades,  but  higher 
up  and  barred  from  it  by  more  than  one  terrace 

383 


ISIDRO 

wall,  nearly  perpendicular,  and  smothered  in 
gooseberry,  buckthorn,  and  manzanita. 

The  fire  had  been  started  toward  the  arroyo, 
and  the  natural  configuration  of  the  forest  car 
ried  it  up  the  slope.  Toward  the  pools  and  the 
open  stony  spaces  bobcat,  coyote,  and  deer  ran 
steadily,  with  the  unteachable  instinct  for  safety, 
and  the  Indians  followed  them. 

Mascado  and  his  party  were  almost  the  last  to 
leave  the  camp.  Beyond  the  meadow  the  wood 
grew  more  openly  and  the  rise  of  the  ground 
was  slight.  They  could  see  the  renegades  spread 
out  among  the  trees,  running.  A  brown  bear 
went  between  them,  trotting  heavily  like  a  pig, 
with  an  impatient  woof  !  —  woof  !  as  he  crossed 
paths  with  the  Indians.  A  coyote  pack  went  by 
with  dropped  heads  and  now  and  then  a  muti 
lated  whine.  Squirrels  hopped  in  the  branches 
with  long  flying  bounds,  all  traveling  east  by 
north.  At  the  first  barrier  they  caught  up  with 
several  of  the  warriors  who  had  not  found  their 
second  wind,  with  the  wounded  and  the  women. 
There  was  no  trail  here,  but  heaps  of  angular 
stones,  piled  logs,  and  a  nearly  straight  ascent  of 

384 


FOREST  FIRE 

a  hundred  feet.  They  worked  up  over  this, 
every  man  for  himself  ;  nobody  spoke  or  cried. 
They  pushed  up,  crowding  with  the  beasts.  The 
smell  of  burning  increased;  Marta  began  to 
pant.  From  the  top  of  this  wall  they  could  see, 
over  the  lower  terraces,  smoke  rising ;  the  fire 
had  not  yet  reached  the  thickest  wood,  but  rolled 
up  by  puffs  from  single  trees  lit  like  torches,  and 
came  from  four  or  five  points  at  once. 

The  second  terrace  sloped  more  steeply  and 
offered  a  check  to  the  running.  The  wood  was 
still  overhead ;  all  the  birds  had  gone  on ;  the 
squirrels  dropped  to  the  ground,  eating  up  the 
distance  by  incredible  bounds.  The  only  sound 
was  the  thudding  of  feet  on  the  soft  litter  of  the 
trees.  The  open  places  were  full  of  small  hurry 
ing  things.  Two  porcupines  trailed  beside  Isi- 
dro,  and  seemed  to  find  comfort  in  his  company. 
He  passed  them.  A  fox  vixen  and  her  young 
snaked  through  the  brush  at  his  side  and  passed 
him.  The  fox  mother  snarled  at  him  as  she 
went. 

Presently  a  sound  rose  in  the  wood  and 
gripped  them  all  with  terror.  It  was  the  fresh* 

385 


ISIDKO 

ening  of  the  afternoon  wind  which  was  to  be 
looked  for  at  that  season,  following  on  the 
heated  noons.  It  blew  on  the  tempered  nee 
dles  till  the  pleasant  hum  shrilled  to  the  singing 
of  flames,  and  hurried  the  pounding  feet  to  the 
pace  of  increasing  fear. 

Jacinta  and  Escobar  were  still  going  with  tol 
erable  ease.  In  the  strips  of  calico  bound  about 
Mascado's  body  across  his  wound  a  red  spot 
showed  that  spread  visibly.  Marta  had  mixed 
with  the  renegades  and  the  other  women,  per 
haps  to  hide  from  her  friends  the  distress  of  her 
laboring  sides. 

At  the  next  barrier  they  could  see  the  fires 
rolled  together  as  one  and  the  smoke  of  it  glow 
ing  ruddily  underneath.  It  spread  toward  them 
above  the  trees  ;  particles  of  ashes  floated  in  the 
air.  Here  they  had  half  an  hour  of  hard  climb 
ing,  while  the  fire  gained  visibly.  The  man 
with  the  wounded  knee,  whose  friends  had  aban 
doned  him,  climbed  on  doggedly  beside  them ; 
he  made  no  plea  or  outcry,  but  dug  his  fingers 
into  the  earth  and  climbed.  The  muscles  of  his 
chest  seemed  fit  to  burst  with  his  incredible  la- 

386 


FOREST  FIRE 

bors.  Isidro  lent  him  a  hand  over  the  edge  and 
ran  on.  Only  once  an  Indian  uttered  an  excla 
mation.  The  fire  traveled  more  rapidly  along 
the  edge  of  the  open  draw  south  of  them,  and 
nearing  a  narrow  passage  of  the  river,  it  had 
blown  over  and  caught  in  the  redwoods  on  the 
farther  side.  Now  the  wind  drove  it  toward  the 
Indians  from  the  middle  of  the  wood,  in  two  cres 
cent  arms  like  the  horns  of  a  bull.  After  that 
there  was  only  the  business  of  running.  Jacinta 
and  Isidro  went  touching ;  Mascado  held  both 
his  hands  to  his  side.  The  air  was  suffocating 
with  smoke  that  blew  over  the  fire  and  struck 
and  rolled  against  the  higher  ground. 

The  wall  of  the  third  terrace  had  a  smooth 
stony  front  rooted  in  a  strong  thicket  of  moun 
tain  shrubs.  From  the  foot  of  it  men  and  beasts 
turned  northward  toward  the  river.  Above  the 
hurry  of  running  they  heard  the  high  shrieking 
of  the  flame  and  the  deep  crescendo  of  it  as  it 
climbed  the  slope  behind  them.  One  of  the  hurt 
Indians,  arrived  at  the  limit  of  his  strength,  sat 
by  a  tree  with  his  head  hanging  on  his  breast. 
They  ran  on  and  left  him. 

387 


ISIDRO 

Jacinta  began  to  faint.  Mascado  held  her  up 
on  his  side,  but  his  knees  trembled  under  him. 
A  sharper  crash  broke  at  their  back;  Isidro 
thought  it  was  the  fire,  and  for  an  instant  the  use 
of  his  limbs  forsook  him.  He  saw  Mascado's 
mouth  open,  a  ring  of  blackness  in  the  brown 
pallor  of  his  face,  but  he  could  hear  nothing; 
only  the  sense  of  the  words  reached  him. 

"  The  deer,  the  deer !  "  cried  Mascado. 

A  great  herd  of  them,  starting  far  south  of 
their  camp,  had  turned  at  the  foot  of  the  terrace 
and  run  into  the  midst  of  the  flying  Indians. 
The  rush  of  their  coming  seemed  to  shake  the 
stifling  air.  A  great  buck  plunging  in  the  thick 
ets  brushed  between  the  two  men  ;  they  felt  the 
breath  of  his  panting.  Mascado,  who  had  the 
girl  on  his  side,  heaved  her  up  out  of  the  path ; 
Isidro  caught  her  arm  across  the  buck's  shoulder ; 
she  swung  there.  The  herd  tore  trampling 
through  the  thicket.  Mascado's  wound  burst  as 
he  lifted  the  girl  and  he  went  down  under  the 
cutting  hooves.  The  deer  went  on  toward  the 
river,  Isidro  and  the  girl  with  them.  The  buck 
checked  and  blundered  with  his  double  burden  \ 

388 


FOREST  FIRE 

his  tongue  hung  out  of  his  mouth ;  the  stiff 
thickets  tore  them  as  he  ran.  Isidro  was  able 
to  help  himself  a  little.  Jacinta  lay  white  and 
flaccid ;  her  body  swayed  with  the  running,  and 
the  wind  of  the  fire  blew  forward  her  hot,  soft 
hair.  Fragments  of  burning  bark  sailed  past 
them,  and  lit  the  patches  of  ripe  grass.  The 
buck  cleared  them  and  ran  on.  Their  skin 
crawled  with  the  heat ;  the  roar  of  the  fire  blot 
ted  out  all  thought ;  the  boulders  of  the  river 
were  in  sight.  The  buck  reached  a  pool,  plunged 
into  it  belly  deep  ;  Isidro  blessed  God.  The  wind, 
moving  the  free  tips  of  the  flames  forward,  lighted 
the  tops  of  all  the  trees ;  roseate  spires  streamed 
up  from  them  toward  a  low  black  heaven  of 
smoky  cloud.  Between  the  boles  he  saw  small 
creatures  and  Indians  running.  Now  and  then 
fires  lit  by  falling  brands  flared  up  and  obscured 
them,  but  they  broke  through ;  they  shouldered 
together  into  the  pool.  Marta  panted  among  the 
boulders  and  saw  Escobar. 

"  Mascado  ?  "  she  cried. 

Isidro  pointed ;  it  seemed  no  time  for  consider 
ate  lying.  The  woman  turned  instantly.  The 

389 


ISIDRO 

•wind  lifted  the  smoke  and  showed  long  aisles  of 
yet  unlighted  boles  roofed  with  flame.  Marta 
took  something  from  her  bosom;  it  was  the 
blessed  candle  that  had  burned  for  Mascado  be 
fore  San  Antonio  and  the  Child.  The  Indians 
thought  her  crazed  with  fear.  She  stooped  and 
lit  it  at  a  glowing  brand  and  ran  back  toward 
Mascado.  They  saw  her  holding  the  candle  aloft 
in  the  lighted  aisle  for  a  moment,  and  the  curtain 
of  smoke  and  flame  swept  down  and  obscured 
her.  It  seemed  as  if  great  lapses  of  time  oc 
curred  between  these  incidents,  but  it  was  a 
very  little  while. 

Several  of  the  Indians  were  crowded  in  a  lower 
pool,  and  they  seemed  to  call,  but  the  roaring  of 
the  wood  shut  out  all.  The  air  trembled  with 
heat ;  lighted  brands  fell  in  the  water  and  steamed 
there.  Men  and  beasts  crouched  to  bring  them 
selves  as  much  as  possible  into  the  pool.  Three 
deer,  two  bobcats,  and  a  coyote  rubbed  shoulders 
with  the  renegades ;  two  foxes,  one  of  them  with 
a  burned  quarter,  whimpered  at  the  edge  of  the 
water. 

In  the  shelter  of  the  boulders,  and  along  the 
390 


FOEEST  FIRE 

shallow  rill  that  slipped  between  the  stones, 
there  were  small  cowering  things,  —  rabbits  and 
badgers,  wood  rats  and  porcupines.  When  the  last 
border  of  the  redwoods  was  lit,  and  the  fire  roared 
at  them  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  gully,  little 
dead  bodies  floated  down  into  the  pool.  Presently 
there  was  no  stream  left  to  float  them,  cut  off 
by  the  heat  that  scorched  out  its  source.  The 
pool  grew  almost  intolerably  hot,  and  shrunk  at 
the  edges.  There  was  no  other  noise  could  live 
in  the  rip  of  the  flames;  the  smoke  billowed 
down  upon  them,  and  they  had  no  knowledge 
when  the  day  passed  into  night. 

Isidro  sprinkled  water  on  the  girl's  face,  still 
holding  her  against  the  buck's  shoulder.  After 
a  little  she  revived  and  began  to  ask  for  Marta. 

"  I  think  she  must  be  in  the  lower  pool,"  said 
Escobar.  "  I  saw  her  come  out  of  the  woods  soon 
after  us."  Jacinta  slipped  from  the  buck's 
shoulders  and  found  her  feet  under  her.  The 
water  came  to  her  armpits.  Isidro  took  the  ker 
chief  from  her  head  and  wet  it  for  her  to  breathe 
through  and  cover  up  her  eyes.  They  clasped 
hands  under  the  buck's  white  throat.  The  fierce 

391 


ISIDRO 

incandescence  of  the  forest  faded,  and  the  pitchy 
smoke  obscured  them  more  and  more.  They 
edged  together  and  Isidro  took  her  in  his  arms. 

"  Where  is  Mascado?  "  at  length  she  whispered. 

"  His  wound  burst ;  he  went  down  under  the 
deer." 

She  shivered  in  spite  of  the  heat.  "  He  lifted 
me  up,"  she  said ;  "  I  remember  that ;  was  it 
then?"  Isidro  pressed  her  softly  against  his 
breast. 

"  He  saved  my  life,"  she  said,  "  he  saved  my 
lif e,  and  I  had  never  so  much  as  a  kind  word  for 
him." 

"  Think  no  more  of  it,"  said  Escobar. 

The  girl  was  quiet  for  a  long  time ;  her  mind 
still  ran  .on  Mascado. 

"  He  was  very  brave,"  she  said.  "  I  remember, 
as  much  as  six  years  ago,  there  was  a  place  near 
Peter  Lebecque's  where  none  of  the  Indians 
would  go,  —  a  tall,  strange  rock  in  a  lonely  canon. 
There  had  been  witchcraft  there  which  made  them 
afraid.  Juana,  my  mother,  would  cross  herself  if 
so  much  as  a  wind  blew  from  it,  and  I  being  both 
wild  and  bad  thought  to  frighten  her  by  going 

392 


FOEEST  FIRE 

there.  She  was  nearly  frantic ;  Lebecque  was 
from  home,  so  she  sent  Mascado  to  fetch  me.  He 
was  young,  then,  and  quite  as  much  frightened  as 
any,  but  he  came  ;  he  was  quite  pale  with  fright, 
and  I  laughed  at  him,  but  he  came.  He  was  a 
brave  man." 

"  He  died  as  a  brave  man  would  wish  to  die. 
Think  no  more  of  it,  my  Briar,"  said  Escobar. 

Billows  of  hot  smoke  beat  upon  them,  the  water 
hissed  on  the  stones ;  she  hid  her  face  on  his  bo 
som.  Presently  she  asked,  — 

"  Do  you  see  Marta  ?  " 

"  I  see  nothing  but  thick  smoke." 

"  Do  you  think  we  shah1  come  safely  through  ?  " 

"I  am  sure  of  that." 

They  were  silent  a  longer  time. 

"  What  is  that  which  stirs  by  me  in  the  water  ?  " 
asked  the  girl. 

"  It  is  a  doe  that  pants  with  the  running.  It 
is  better  so,  to  screen  you  from  the  heat." 

His  lips  were  very  near  her  face.  They 
struggled  in  the  smother  of  heat  and  smoke  for 
breath. 

"What  is  that  I  hear?"  she  whispered. 
393 


ISIDRO 

"  It  is  a  hurt  fox  at  the  water's  edge/'  answered 
Isidro. 

"  It  is  a  woeful  sound/'  she  said. 

"  Do  not  hear,  then ; "  he  sheltered  her  head 
within  his  arm. 

The  cloud  of  smoke  passed  a  little  from  them. 

"  I  would  Marta  were  with  us/'  said  she. 

"  Am  I  not  enough,  Heart's  Dearest  ?  " 

"  You  will  not  leave  me/'  breathed  the  girl. 

"  Never  while  my  life  lasts/'  said  he. 

Presently  he  raised  her  face  between  his  hands 
and  kissed  her  with  a  tender  passion.  The  tall 
buck  stooped  above  them  and  breathed  lightly 
on  their  hair. 


XXVII 


ARROYO  SECO 

SIDRO  roused  out  of  a  doze,  leaning 
against  the  buck,  to  hear  the  slow 
soft  trickle  of  the  water  that  had 
come  back  to  its  borders,  sure  sign 
that  the  fire  had  raged  out  on  the  bald 
summit  of  the  hill.  The  night  wind  which 
came  from  the  sea  blew  up  the  arroyo 
and  cleared  the  smoke ;  it  was  possible  to 
$•  breathe  freely.  He  could  see  through  the 
murk  a  fringe  of  red  fire  outlining  the  bulk  of 
the  hills.  Heat  and  smoke  still  rose  from  the 
burnt  district ;  logs  snapped  asunder  in  glowing 
coals ;  tall  trunks  of  standing  trees  burned  fee 
bly  at  the  top  like  half-extinguished  torches.  In 
pits  and  hollows,  where  two  or  three  had  fallen 
together,  the  fire  still  ripped  and  flared. 

The  Indians  had  drawn  out  of  the  water  and 
slept  on  the  warm  stones,  but  the  wild  things 

395 


ISIDRO 

looked  not  to  have  moved  all  night,  their  eyes 
were  all  open  and  a-gaze.  The  air  lightened  a 
little  to  approaching  dawn. 

Jacinta  slept  on  his  breast,  standing  deep  in 
the  water ;  her  face  made  a  pale  disk  in  the  dark. 
The  heat,  the  suffocation,  the  acrid  smoke,  the 
tepid,  ash-impregnated  water  full  of  crowding 
men  and  beasts  and  small  charred  bodies,  the 
intolerable  tedium  of  the  night,  had  no  more 
poignant  sense  for  Escobar  than  the  feeling  of 
the  soft  young  body  within  the  hollow  of  his 
arms.  If  he  had  not  felt  the  want  of  a  wife  be 
fore  he  felt  it  now.  It  was  something  to  comfort 
and  protect,  something  to  wear  against  his  heart 
to  keep  it  warm. 

The  sky  lightened  behind  its  veil  of  smoke. 
The  sun  rose  above  the  ranges,  shorn  of  all  his 
rays.  The  Indians  began  to  stir ;  Jacinta  woke. 

Her  first  inquiry  was  for  Marta.  Isidro  avoided 
it,  drawing  her  out  of  the  pool  to  dry  their  cloth 
ing  on  the  still  heated  boulders. 

"  You  said  that  you  saw  her  come  safely  out 
of  the  burning,"  she  insisted. 

"  She  came,  yes,"  said  Escobar,  driven  to  man- 
396 


ARROYO   SECO 

nish  bluntness  by  distress.    "  But  when  she  saw 
Mascado  was  not  with  us  she  ran  back." 

«  Back  there  !  Into  the  fire  ?  Marta?  "  The 
girl  started  up  for  an  instant  as  if  she  would 
have  gone  after  her.  "  And  you  let  her  go  ? 
You  let  her  go?" 

Isidro  took  her  by  the  shoulders. 

"  I  had  you  to  see  to ;  it  was  done  all  in  a 
moment ;  no  one  could  have  prevented  her.  She 
had  something,  a  candle  I  think,  which  she  took 
from  her  bosom." 

"  I  know  ;  a  blessed  candle  from  the  church  at 
Carmelo.  She  burned  one  always  for  Mascado 
before  San  Antonio  and  the  Child." 

"  She  ran  with  it  among  the  trees.  No  doubt 
San  Antonio  had  her  in  hand.  The  flames  seemed 
to  part  to  let  her  through." 

"  Oh,  but  you  should  not  have  let  her  go  !  " 
cried  Jacinta ;  "  you  should  not  have  let  her 
go."  She  sobbed  dryly ;  the  heat  and  exhaus 
tion  had  stopped  the  source  of  tears.  The  girl's 
grief  was  genuine ;  Isidro  let  it  have  way.  Marta 
had  been  the  first  to  show  her  tenderness  since 
her  foster-mother  had  died. 

397 


ISIDRO 

They  sat  down  with  their  backs  to  a  boulder, 
hand  in  hand,  doubtful  what  the  Indians  would 
do  to  them.  They  had  little  matter  for  conversa 
tion  ;  now  and  then  Jacinta  gave  a  shudder  and 
a  shaking  sob  and  Isidro  pressed  her  hand. 

The  Indians  got  together.  Most  of  them  were 
scorched  along  their  naked  backs,  many  were 
badly  burned.  Including  Marta,  five  of  their 
party  had  failed  to  win  through.  They  did  not 
talk  much.  One  of  them  had  killed  a  deer  with 
his  knife  where  it  stood  beside  him  in  the  pool, 
and  they  ate  of  it  in  the  same  sombre  silence. 
Isidro,  seeing  no  motion  in  his  direction,  cut 
strips  of  the  flesh  with  his  own  knife,  and  toasted 
them  on  the  coals  for  himself  and  the  girl. 
After  food  the  courage  of  them  all  revived.  The 
blueness  of  smoke  hung  thick  in  the  air,  relieved 
a  little  above  the  canon  of  the  stream,  which 
made  a  little  draft  of  wind. 

The  renegades,  with  no  debate,  but  as  if  by 
the  concerted  instinct  which  sets  a  herd  of  deer 
in  motion,  began  to  move  upstream,  taking  with 
them  what  was  left  of  the  meat.  They  walked 
in  the  track  of  the  water  and  gingerly  among 

398 


AKKOYO  SECO 

the  hot  stones  of  its  borders.  They  looked  not 
once  nor  spoke  to  Escobar.  Upstream  and  over 
the  blackened  ridge  lay  a  safe  green  country  full 
of  game,  and  beyond  that  was  home.  By  twos 
and  threes  they  vanished  into  the  mist  of  smoke. 
One  of  them,  hesitating,  at  the  last,  half  turned 
toward  Escobar  with  a  gesture  of  dismissal. 
Their  game  was  up ;  they  wanted  no  more  of 
him. 

All  this  time  the  animals  in  the  water  had  not 
moved,  shocked  into  quietude  by  the  disorder  of 
their  world.  The  pool  reddened  still  with  the 
blood  of  the  slain  deer. 

"  Wife,  let  us  go,"  said  Escobar. 

Jacinta  waded  out  to  the  buck  and  put  her 
arms  up  to  his  neck ;  he  suffered  it  with  timidity. 
She  laid  her  cheek  to  his  throat  and  blessed  him, 
signing  the  cross  on  his  shoulders. 

"  Let  none  come  after  thee  to  hurt  thee,  and 
none  lie  in  wait  by  night.  Let  no  arrow  find 
thee,  no,  nor  hunger,  nor  forsaking  of  thy  kind. 
Blessed  be  thou  among  beasts." 

She  came  up  out  of  the  water,  and  Isidro  took 
her  hand.  They  went  downstream. 

399 


ISIDKO 

"  What  shall  we  do  ? "  said  Jacinta  when 
they  had  traveled  in  silence  a  painful  quarter 
of  an  hour.  The  broadening  day  brought  them 
an  accession  of  embarrassment,  mixed  with  a 
deep  satisfaction  of  each  other's  company. 

"  Yesterday/'  said  Isidro,  "  the  Comandante 
must  have  been  at  the  lower  part  of  the  wood. 
I  trust  he  is  not  far  removed.  We  may  come  up 
with  him.  If  Arnaldo  made  his  way  safely  as  I 
have  no  doubt  he  did,  he  may  be  looking  for 


us." 


"  He  —  my  father  —  does  not  know  that 
I  am  here,"  faltered  Jacinta.  She  was  still 
greatly  in  awe  of  the  comandante. 

"  No  matter/'  said  Escobar  stoutly  ;  "  it  is  pro 
per  that  you  be  with  me." 

The  implication  of  his  words  reddened  her 
pinched  and  weary  face. 

They  made  way  very  slowly,  being  stiff  with 
the  strain  and  exertion  of  the  night  and  day. 
They  met  animals,  rabbits,  ground  inhabiting 
things,  bobcats,  and  a  lean  cougar  mother  mouth 
ing  three  dead  kittens,  herself  all  singed  and 
scarred,  and  came  frequently  on  dead  bodies  of 

400 


ARROYO   SECO 

beasts  lying  in  the  wash.  Then  Jacinta  would 
think  of  Marta,  and  her  face  would  quiver  and 
draw  pitifully,  until  Isidro  would  quiet  her  with 
audacious  tenderness  and  set  her  glowing  as 
from  a  delicate  inner  flame.  Once  after  such  a 
sally  she  smiled  up  to  him. 

"  You  are  too  good  to  me,  senor." 
66  Eh,  what !  "  cried  Isidro  in  mock  amazement. 
"  Is  that  a  name  for  a  man's  wife  to  give  him  ? 
Senor,  indeed ! " 

"  Am  I  really  that  to  you,  Don  Isidro  ?  " 
"  Are  you  what  ?  " 
"  What  you  said." 

"  My  wife  ?    As  much  as  the  sacrament  can 
make  you  ! "  was  his  assurance ;  the  look  that 
went  with  it  said  much  more. 
"  And  you  wish  it  so  ?  " 
"  Must  I  tell  you  that,  my  Briar  ?  " 
"  But  you  are  vowed  to  Holy  Church." 
"  No  vow  of  mine ;  an  old  promise  made  be 
fore  I  was  born.    I  am  convinced  that  I  have  no 
vocation." 

"  And  after  all,"  she  said  wistfully,    "  I  am 
really  the  comandante's  daughter." 

401 


ISIDRO 

"  You  are  —  Ah,  I  do  not  know  what  you  are. 
I  think  I  shall  need  all  my  life  to  find  you  out, 
all  my  life  and  heart.  Ah  lad,  lad  ! "  It  was 
always  after  a  word  of  supreme  endearment  be 
tween  them.  He  held  both  her  hands  and  drew 
her  up  to  him. 

Castro,  having  delivered  his  final  stroke  at  the 
stronghold  of  the  renegades,  drew  off  to  wait 
and  see  what  came  of  it,  and  to  deliberate  how 
he  should  strike  as  effectively  at  the  remnant 
under  Urbano.  The  condition  of  mission  affairs, 
and  the  spirit  of  insurrection  kept  alive  among 
the  neophytes  by  the  successes  of  Urbano's  men, 
justified,  in  his  sight,  the  severest  measures.  He 
esteemed  the  fire  roaring  up  the  terraces  of  Hid 
den  Waters  a  splendid  engine  of  war,  but  not 
for  long.  That  was  the  day  and,  when  the  fire 
raged  the  hottest,  the  hour  when  Pascual  and 
Don  Valentin  dropped  in  upon  his  camp  on  the 
scarp  of  a  low  hill,  with  fagged  horses  and 
bloody  spurs. 

Pascual,  mindless  of  military  dignities,  called 
out  to  him  as  man  to  man. 

402 


ARROYO  SECO 

"  My  brother,  Escobar,  have  you  got  him  ?  Is 
he  yet  with  the  rascals  ?  What  is  that  fire  ? " 
The  two  men  had  smelled  the  burning  an  hour 
since,  and  guessed  what  Castro  was  about. 
Don  Valentin  spoke  more  to  the  point  and  at 
length. 

,  "Is  Senor  Escobar  a  prisoner  with  the  rene 
gades?"  said  the  Comandante,  visibly  disturbed. 
"How  long  has  this  been  known?" 

"  Since  Tuesday  of  this  week.  It  was  at  first  a 
rumor  hardly  believed." 

"  We  lost  our  way  in  these  damnable  hills," 
exploded  Pascual,  "  or  you  should  have  heard  of 
it  soon  enough.  Did  you  light  that  fire  ?  " 

Delgado  waved  him  aside. 

"  Send   out   the   men,"    he   said ;    "  there   is 


more." 


Castro  gave  the  order.  "My  daughter?"  he 
said. 

"  Senorita  Castro  and  the  woman  Marta  have 
been  missing  since  Wednesday  morning.  It  is 
believed  they  have  gone  in  search  of  him.  Marta 
is  Mascado's  mother." 

Castro's  body  strained  with  the  impotent  vio- 
403 


ISIDRO 

lence  of  nightmare.  The  news  seemed  to  divide 
him  body  and  spirit.  He  made  as  if  he  would 
have  struck  Delgado  for  his  disastrous  tidings. 

He  saw  the  men's  eyes  upon  him  from  a  little 
distance  under  the  trees,  and  gulped  back  a  mo 
mentary  control. 

"  Montana  !  Montana !  "  he  cried  out  to  his 
lieutenant,  and  lapsed  weakly  to  his  seat;  his 
hands  moved  fumbling  across  his  lips. 

a  Put  out  the  fire,  Montana,"  he  said  in  a 
dead,  flaccid  voice. 

"  Pardon  ?  "  said  the  puzzled  lieutenant. 

"  I  said  put  out  the  fire,  the  fire  on  the  moun 
tain  ; "  he  moved  with  a  feeble  impatience  at  the 
other's  slowness.  "  My  daughter  is  there  on  the 
mountain  ;  she  wiU  burn." 

Delgado  went  to  him.  "  Senor  Comandante,  it 
is  best  that  you  lie  down.  I  will  see  that  Montana 
understands." 

All  the  while  Mascado  and  Escobar,  with  the 
girl  between  them,  were  making  their  running 
in  the  redwoods  above  Hidden  Waters  ;  all  that 
night,  when  they  stood  against  the  tall  buck  in 
the  pool,  Castro  lay  in  his  blankets,  burying  his 

404 


AREOYO  SECO 

head  in  them  to  shut  out  the  shriek  and  snap 
ping  of  the  fire,  the  roseate  purple  glow,  the  great 
roar  of  the  pitchy  smoke  going  skyward.  Bodily 
weakness  served  to  intervene  between  him  and 
the  force  of  his  mind's  distress,  which  returned 
upon  him  at  intervals  like  a  spasm  of  pain.  He 
thought  Montana  and  the  men  busy  about  putting 
out  the  fire,  asking  Delgado  continually  how 
they  sped,  and  Delgado  humored  him. 

Montana  had,  in  fact,  dispatched  men  up  the 
arroyo  and  along  the  open  south  side,  but  the 
first  came  back  reporting  the  trees  afire  on  both 
sides  of  the  wash  and  the  passing  dangerous; 
the  others  found  only  Arnaldo  nearly  dead  with 
running,  and  no  comforting  news. 

"  How  does  it  now  ?  "  questioned  Castro  from 
his  bed  when  they  had  turned  him  away  from 
gazing  on  the  hills. 

"  It  dies  out  along  the  lower  edges,"  said 
Don  Valentin,  propping  his  tired  eyes  upon  his 
hand. 

"Does  it  burn  fast?" 

"  Hardly  so  fast  as  an  Indian  can  run,"  said 
the  conscienceless  Delgado. 

405 


ISIDRO 

"  And  Marta  had  horses,  you  say  ?  " 

"She  had;  Jose,  Martinez's  man,  got  them 
for  her." 

"Besides,"  said  Castro  for  the  thousandth 
time,  "they  may  not  yet  have  reached  the 
camp." 

Delgado,  who  had  seen  Arnaldo,  had  nothing 
to  say  to  that.  Pascual  groaned.  Then  they  fell 
into  silence  and  a  doze  of  deep  exhaustion,  until 
Castro  roused  them,  fretting  from  his  bed. 

"How  does  it  now?" 

"  It  burns  slowly  where  the  bluffs  are  treeless 
and  steep." 

"  Will  they  win  through,  think  you  ?  " 

"  By  the  grace  of  God,  I  am  sure  of  it." 

And  so  on  through  the  hours  until  the  fire 
passed  thinly  to  the  tree  line,  and  the  smoke  hid 
all  but  the  red  reflection  on  the  sky. 

Pascual  and  Don  Valentin  got  some  needed 
sleep  at  last.  Castro's  strength  began  to  come 
back  to  him,  and  with  it  his  collected  spirit, 
which,  though  it  quickened  the  agony  of  appre 
hension,  helped  him  to  spare  others  the  exhibition 
of  it.  By  morning,  which  broke  dully,  blurred 

406 


ARROYO  SECO 

with  smoke,  he  was  able  to  mount  and  ride ;  but 
the  ten  years  which  it  was  said  he  had  lost  since 
his  daughter  was  found  came  back  and  settled 
heavily  on  his  shoulders  and  bent  him  toward 
the  saddle-bow. 

From  Arnaldo's  account  he  judged  it  best 
seeking  up  the  arroyo.  He  sent  the  tracker  with 
men  to  try  if  possible  to  cross  the  hot  ashes  to 
the  camp,  and  follow  the  probable  line  of  flight, 
for  he  knew  now  all  that  Arnaldo  could  tell  him 
of  Escobar  and  his  daughter. 

Castro,  Pascual,  Delgado,  and  six  men  rode 
up  the  stony  wash.  The  stench  of  burning,  the 
acrid  ash  that  whirled  about  in  the  wind,  the 
difficulties  and  discomforts  of  the  way,  took  the 
edge  off  of  anguished  expectation.  The  men 
rode  in  advance,  —  Castro  had  no  hope  to  spur 
him  forward, — and  whatever  of  dead  they  found 
they  hid  out  of  the  way. 

Isidro  and  the  girl  heard  the  clank  of  shod 
hoofs  on  the  boulders.  Escobar  raised  a  cracked, 
dry  halloo.  The  answer  to  it  set  them  trembling 
with  the  eagerness  of  relief . 

"  Virgen  Santissima,  Mother  inviolate,  Mary 
407 


ISIDKO 

most  Holy,  Queen  of  the  Angels/'  murmured  the 
Comandante  in  deep  thankfulness,  as  he  saw  her 
come. 

Not  the  greatest  moments  are  long  proof 
against  daily  habits  and  hates.  Castro's  anxiety 
for  his  daughter's  life  was  not  of  such  long  stand 
ing  that  his  prejudice  against  Escobar  was  not 
longer ;  but  his  habit  of  authority  was  older  than 
both.  It  fretted  him  in  his  enfeebled  state,  almost 
before  he  had  done  returning  thanks,  to  have  her 
appear  so  in  boyish  disguise  before  his  men ; 
chafed  his  new  dignity  as  a  parent  to  have  her 
leave  his  house  and  go  running  to  the  woods  after 
this  young  sprig  Escobar ;  and  since  his  daugh 
ter  was  above  all  blame,  he  blamed  Escobar. 
There  was  a  moment  of  embarrassment  and  chill 
after  the  greeting  and  congratulation.  Don  Isidro 
had  that  in  his  heart  which  fortified  him  against 
all  frostiness  of  behavior.  Castro  turned  to  his 
men. 

"  Miguel  and  Pedro,"  he  said,  "  will  give  up 
their  horses  to  Senor  Escobar  and  my  daughter." 
He  kept  fast  hold  of  the  girl,  but  Isidro  claimed 
her  with  his  eyes.  The  men  led  up  the  horses. 

408 


ARKOYO  SECO 

She,  who  a  month  before  had  been  free  to  vault 
Indian-like  from  the  ground,  suffered  herself  to 
be  lifted  up  lady  wise.  Castro  reserved  that  occu 
pation  for  himself,  though  he  was  hardly  able  for 
it.  Isidro  went  on  quietly  shortening  the  stir 
rups;  the  two  men  eyed  each  other  over  the 
horse's  shoulders. 

Said  Isidro,  courteous  and  smiling,  "I  give 
madam  my  wife  into  your  keeping,  Senor  Co- 
mandante,  until  we  come  to  a  better  state." 

The  Comandante  turned  abruptly  to  his  own 
horse  and  broke  twice  in  the  effort  to  mount. 
One  of  the  troopers  gave  him  a  hand.  Isidro's 
hand  was  on  the  girl's,  her  eyes  on  his  eyes.  She 
stooped  lightly;  the  young  man  brought  his 
horse  alongside,  one  foot  in  the  stirrup;  her 
soft  hair  fell  forward,  his  eyes  drew  her,  they 
kissed. 

"  March  !  "  cried  the  Comandante.  The  horses 
clattered  on  the  start ;  then  they  struck  into  a 
trot. 

Pascual  burst  out  a-laughing.  "  By  my  soul, 
brother,"  he  cried,  "but  you  begin  well  for  a 
priest ! " 

409 


ISIDRO 

Isidro  blushed. 

"I  am  not  a  priest  yet,"  he  said,  "and  the 
lady  is  really  my  wife." 

They  mounted  and  rode  after  Castro's  men. 


XXVIII 

THE   END  OF  THE  TRAIL 

what,"  said  the  Father  President, 
pacing  up  and  down  in  the  mission 
parlor,    "  what    becomes    of    your 
priestly  calling  ?" 
"  Padre/'  said  Escobar,  leaning  his  arm  upon 
the  table,  "  I  have  no  true  vocation." 

"  You  thought  differently  a  month  since." 
"  A  month  since,  yes.    Much  may  happen  in  a 
month." 

"  Hardly  enough,  I  should  think,  to  outbal 
ance  a  decision  made  practically  before  you  were 
born." 

"Before  I  was  born,  Padre,  and  therefore 
hardly  within  my  power  of  agreeing  or  disagree 
ing.  But  within  the  month,  Reverend  Father,  I 
have  been  in  captivity  and  distress.  I  have  faced 
dreadful  death,  and  fleeing  from  it  have  learned 
that  I  wished  to  live,  not  to  do  priest's  work 
in  the  world,  but  for  the  sake  of  lif e  itself 3  for 

411 


ISIDRO 
seeing  -and   feeling  and  stirring   about   among 


men." 


"  You  wish  not  to  do  the  work  of  Our  Father 
Christ?" 

"It  is  not  that  I  do  not  wish  it,  but  I  wish  to 
do  a  man's  work  more." 

"  A  month  since,"  said  Saavedra  again,  "  that 
was  not  your  thought." 

"  My  thought  then  was  the  thought  of  a  boy ; 
but  hear  now  what  is  in  my  mind.  You  'have 
heard  how  Marta  died,  going  into  the  fire  after 
she  had  come  safe  out  of  it.  We  do  not  know 
well  what  was  in  her  heart,  but  my  —  but  Ja- 
cinta  thinks  that  she  wished  to  bring  the  blessed 
candle  to  Mascado,  so  that  he  might  have  that 
much  of  religion  at  his  end.  She  took  no  care  of 
what  might  happen  to  herself.  It  is  my  thought 
that  God's  priests  should  so  carry  salvation  to 
men,  counting  not  the  cost,  and  I  have  not  that 
spirit,  Padre;  I  should  count  the  cost." 

"  What,  then,  do  you  wish  ?  "  The  Padre  was 
visibly  patient  and,  by  an  effort,  kind. 

"  I  wish  —  the  common  life  of  man,  the  com 
mon  chances ;  no  more,  I  think,  —  common  du- 

412 


THE  END   OF  THE  TRAIL 

ties,  labors,  and  occupations ;  to  have  my  own 
house,  my  wife,"  —  here  the  young  man  colored 
slightly  — "  and  children,  if  God  please.  It  is 
not  much." 

The  Padre  stopped  in  his  walk  and  laid  both 
hands  on  the  table,  looking  across  at  Escobar. 

"  No,  it  is  not  much,"  he  said,  "  not  much  for 
which  to  give  over  a  great  labor,  toward  which 
we  thought,  or  at  least  I  thought  and  you  agreed 
with  me,  —  a  month  since,  —  toward  which  the 
need  and  occasion  pointed  as  the  Finger  of  God." 

"  A  great  work,  Padre,  but  wanting  a  proper 
instrument.  I  am  afraid  I  could  not  help  you 
there."  There  was  a  pause. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  my  son  ?  "  said  the  Pa 
dre  at  last.  There  was  a  hint  of  anxiety  in  his 
voice,  a  dawning  grayness  in  his  face. 

"I  mean,  Padre,"  the  young  man  came  out 
halting  and  reluctantly  with  his  thought,  "in 
regard  to  the  foundation  of  the  Franciscans  — 
the  Missions  —  there  is  much  that  sticks  in  my 
mind." 

"  You  mean  —  "  said  the  Padre  dully. 

"  I  mean  —  I  hardly  know  what,  except  that 
413 


ISIDRO 

what  you  expected  of  me  as  to  the  continuance 
of  the  Missions  in  their  present  aspiration  and 
direction  has  become  impossible."  He  was  going 
on  with  argument  and  extenuation,  ah1  that  Ja- 
cinta  had  taught  him,  all  that  he  had  learned 
from  Mascado  in  the  hills,  all  the  eager  young 
straining  after  ideals  of  liberty  which  fomented 
in  the  heart  of  Mexico,  but  the  Padre  held  up 
his  hand. 

"  Spare  me,"  he  said,  "  spare  me."  The  old 
man  turned  away  to  the  window  and  looked  long 
toward  the  sea,  toward  the  orchard,  the  laborers 
in  the  barley,  the  women  spinning  in  the  sun,  the 
comfort,  busyness  and  peace,  the  cross  twinkling 
over  all.  He  was  used  in  these  days  to  men  who 
doubted  the  efficiency  of  all  these ;  but  the  hurt, 
the  deep  intolerable  wound,  lay  in  knowing  that 
the  matter  had  been  brought  to  Escobar  by  his 
own  hand,  the  contrary  judgment  shaped,  as  far 
as  he  knew,  on  his  own  showing.  He  came  back 
at  last  and  laid  his  worn,  thin  palms  on  the  young 
man's  shoulders. 

"  Oh,  my  son,  my  son,  could  you  not  have 
spared  me  this?  " 

414 


THE  END   OF  THE  TKAIL 

Tears  rose  in  Isidro's  eyes,  and  he  touched  the 
old  hands  reverently  with  his  lips,  but  he  could 
not  take  back  his  word. 

"  We  priests,"  said  Saavedra  with  an  unused 
accent  of  bitterness,  "  have  none  of  the  joys  of 
parents,  but  at  least  one  of  their  pangs,  —  to 
know  that  those  we  have  nurtured  in  our  dearest 
hopes  have  not  found  those  hopes  worth  gather 
ing  up."  The  young  man  said  nothing  to  this  ; 
there  was,  in  fact,  nothing  to  say. 

"  I  am  an  old  man,"  went  on  Saavedra,  "  and 
a  great  sinner.  No  doubt  I  set  my  mind  above 
my  Master's,  desiring  what  is  not  good  for  me  to 
have." 

They  were  silent  for  some  time,  and  Escobar 
guessed  that  the  Padre  prayed.  Finally  he  moved 
somewhat  feebly  as  if  he  felt  his  age  press  upon 
him,  brought  up  a  chair,  and  sat  at  the  opposite 
side  of  the  table. 

"  What,  then,  do  you  wish  of  me  ?  "  he  said 
with  courageous  cheer. 

"  That  you  persuade  Castro  to  recognize  my 
marriage  with  his  daughter,  or  at  least  my  claims 
to  her  hand." 

415 


ISIDRO 

"  The  marriage  was  duly  celebrated  with  the 
Sacrament,  you  say,  and  recorded  ?  " 

"  It  was.  But  for  the  recording  we  had  not 
the  lady's  name.  It  was  written  Senorita  Le- 
becque.  The  Comandante  holds  that  to  invali 
date  the  marriage." 

"  Hardly,  unless  conscious  fraud  was  used,  and 
that  it  was  not  could  easily  be  proved.  The  Sac 
rament  of  the  Church  cannot  be  lightly  set  aside. 
What  says  the  lady  ?  " 

Isidro  had  the  grace  to  blush,  but  held  on 
steadfastly.  "  The  lady  wishes  what  I  wish.  We 
are  of  one  mind." 

The  Padre's  face  softened  with  a  weary  smile. 
"  No  doubt  it  can  be  arranged  ;  I  will  see  Castro. 
Now  leave  me,  my  son  ;  I  have  much  to  think  on." 

Isidro  knelt  to  receive  a  blessing ;  he  looked  up 
into  the  kind,  pale  eyes,  and  his  heart  wrung  him 
for  his  defection.  He  thought  of  the  quest  of 
Juan  Ruiz. 

"  Oh,  Padre,  Padre,"  he  cried  with  half  a  sob, 
"  I  owe  you  much  !  " 

"  It  is  nothing.  Go  in  peace,  my  son  ;  the 
Lord  keep  you  and  make  His  face  to  shine  upon 

416 


THE  END   OF   THE   TRAIL 

you."  The  old  priest,  left  to  himself,  sat  a  long 
time  sadly  staring  into  the  room.  It  is  an  ill  hour 
for  an  old  man  when  the  objects  of  a  life-long 
renunciation,  lusts  of  the  heart,  the  common  hu 
man  aspirations,  rise  up  to  defeat  him  in  the  end. 

At  the  last  Castro  made  no  great  difficulty.  He 
persuaded  himself  that  he  wished  merely  to  be 
assured  that  his  daughter's  heart  inclined  toward 
Escobar.  Really  the  trouble  was  in  his  hurt  sus 
ceptibilities  at  being  so  soon  set  aside. 

All  the  lean,  wifeless,  childless  years  could  not 
be  filled  out  in  a  month.  Now  that  his  daughter 
was  found  he  wanted  time  for  adoring  her,  and 
though  he  had  not  been  a  parent  long,  it  was 
long  enough  to  develop  parental  proclivities  for 
meddling  in  his  daughter's  affairs.  His  worst 
objection  to  Escobar  at  this  juncture  was  that 
Jacinta  had  chosen  him.  As  much  as  the  young 
man  had  associated  himself  with  the  girl's  life 
before  her  father  had  found  her,  the  Comand- 
ante  resented  it.  All  those  companionable  hours, 
the  captivity,  the  distress  which  they  shared,  their 
very  youth  which  they  had  in  common,  Castro 
envied  them. 

417 


ISIDRO 

The  experience  of  an  unhappy  love  as  often  as 
not  unfits  a  man  to  deal  fairly  by  a  happy  one. 
Castro  had  lost  the  mother,  before  he  had  her,  to 
another  man  ;  now,  it  appeared,  he  was  to  lose 
the  daughter,  and  in  the  same  case ;  but  with 
her,  as  with  Ysabel,  he  had  the  passionate  purpose 
to  hold  to  the  form  and  shadow  of  possession. 

Jacinta  left  him  in  no  doubt  as  to  her  senti 
ments.  Now  that  Escobar  claimed  her  she  went 
no  longer  shamefaced,  but  wore  her  love  nakedly 
and  gloried  in  it.  She  increased  in  dignity ;  her 
beauty  grew  apace  like  a  flower.  Not  all  the 
artificialities  of  dress  and  behavior  imposed  on 
her  by  the  matrons  Castro  brought  to  be  her 
advisers  had  made  her  a  woman,  but  a  man'p 
need  of  womanliness  to  love.  Where  Escobar 
put  her  in  his  thought  she  stayed;  she  might 
live  a  little  above  that  level,  but  never  below  it. 
She  gave  Castro  no  warrant  for  his  reluctance  to 
admit  the  marriage  at  San  Antonio,  though  war 
rant  might  have  been  found  for  it  in  his  agree 
ment  with  Valentin  Delgado.  He  had  gone  so 
far  with  that  gentleman  as  to  recognize  his  claim 
to  be  considered  a  suitor  for  his  daughter's  hand. 

418 


THE  END   OF  THE  TRAIL 

As  usage  was  at  that  time,  the  Comandante 
might  have  held  himself  bound,  but  here  Del- 
fina's  tongue  came  aptly  in.  The  interval  be 
tween  Jacinta's  flight  to  Hidden  Waters  and 
her  return  had  been  employed  by  Delfina  and 
Fray  Demetrio  in  making  the  fame  of  the  girl 
and  Escobar  a  thing  of  shreds  and  tatters.  There 
will  always  be  these  blue  flies  buzzing  on  the 
fringe  of  nobler  lives,  shaping  them  unguessed 
to  contrary  courses.  Originating,  if  it  had  any 
origin  but  pure  affinity  for  mischief,  in  malice 
toward  Escobar,  the  gossip  served  him  an  excel 
lent  turn.  Not  much  of  it  reached  the  Coman 
dante,  but  it  was  in  the  air,  and  Don  Valentin, 
who  was  not  known  to  be  directly  implicated, 
heard  more  than  he  stomached  easily.  Besides, 
he  had  seen  the  kiss  exchanged  by  Isidro  and 
the  girl  in  the  Arroyo  Seco,  and  being  a  politic 
youth  as  well  as  honorable  in  the  main,  Don 
Valentin  withdrew.  Castro  was,  however,  the 
poorer  for  that,  and  Delgado  made  a  beginning 
of  that  fortune  which  in  the  heyday  of  Alta 
California  became  notable.  The  Comandante,  all 
other  consideration  going  down  before  it,  allowed 

419 


ISIDRO 

the  announcement  of  the  marriage  at  last,  to 
quiet  scandal.  He  would  have  wished  to  have 
the  ceremony  repeated,  but  Saavedra  judged  it 
inexpedient.  They  had  in  lieu  of  it  a  special 
service  in  the  church  of  San  Carlos,  followed  by 
a  baile  at  the  Presidio,  at  which  both  Pascual 
and  Don  Valentin  outdid  the  groom  in  the  splen 
dor  of  their  buttons  and  embroideries.  The  fes 
tivities  were  attended  by  the  Governor  and  his 
lady,  by  everybody  who  could  by  any  reasonable 
excuse  be  invited,  by  long  trains  of  Indians  bear 
ing  flowers ;  and  it  lacked  but  one  item  of  an 
exceptionally  fashionable  affair ;  the  bride,  rid 
ing  to  the  church  as  the  custom  was,  chose,  not 
her  father's  splendid  mount  as  would  any  girl  in 
her  senses,  but  the  same  kicking  pinto  which  had 
brought  her  up  from  the  hut  of  the  Grapevine 
in  the  train  of  Escobar.  As  the  wedding  party 
halted  at  the  church  door,  Isidro  unpinned  a  fly- 
specked  paper  from  it,  offering,  in  the  handwrit 
ing  of  the  secretary,  a  reward  for  information 
concerning  certain  papers  found  in  the  alms-box. 
He  passed  it  up  to  the  Comandante ;  Castro  gave 
a  thin,  wintry  smile. 

420 


THE   END   OF   THE  TRAIL 

"You  have  not  given  me  the  information/'  he 
said,  u  but  you  seem  to  have  the  reward." 

Within  a  month  after  the  marriage  the  Co- 
mandante  got  his  release,  and  soon  after  that, 
the  galleon  La  Golindrina  putting  into  port, 
bound  for  Mexico,  he  embarked  upon  her  with 
his  daughter  and  Escobar. 

Isidro  with  his  young  wife  leaned  upon  the 
rail  and  watched  the  dwindling  of  the  white 
walls  of  Monterey. 

"  Said  I  not  truly,"  whispered  the  girl,  "  that 
when  you  sailed  for  Mexico  I  should  be  with 
you  on  the  sea  ?  " 

"  Most  truly,  my  Briar,  and  with  me  shall  see 
the  world,  though  it  seems  I  serve  myself  more 
than  God." 

"  But  that  was  not  what  I  said." 

"  What  was  it,  most  dear  ?  I  forget." 

"That  I  should  serve  God  —  and  you."  She 
lifted  soft  eyes  to  him,  shy  and  adoring,  as  to  a 
saint.  It  appeared  she  would  make  an  excellent 
wife ;  Isidro,  at  least,  was  sure  of  it.  He  held 
her  hand  under  the  rebosa,  and  watched  the 
town  fade  into  the  blueness  of  the  hills. 

421 


ISIDKO 

They  said  to  each  other,  and  believed  it,  that 
they  would  come  again  and  visit  the  places  of 
their  young  delight,  —  the  Canada  of  the  Grape 
vines,  the  Mission  San  Antonio,  and  all  the  sea 
ward,  poppy-colored  slope  of  the  coastwise  hills ; 
but,  in  fact,  they  never  came  together  to  Alta 
California.  The  care  of  the  Ramirez  estates  and 
the  political  preferment  to  which  Escobar's  facile 
temper  led  him  proved  sufficient  occupation. 
Isidro  came  once,  to  see  his  father  die,  but  Dona 
Jacinta  kept  at  home  with  her  young  children. 

Padre  Saavedra  knew  them  well  in  Old  Mex 
ico,  where  he  followed  them  within  two  years, 
upon  the  breaking  up  of  the  Missions,  the  loss  of 
which  colored  all  his  later  years  with  a  gentle 
and  equable  grief.  His  faith  and  the  natural 
temper  of  his  mind  forbade  that  any  bitterness 
should  mingle  with  it,  but  he  left  much  of  his 
sprightly  vigor  at  Carmelo,  where  the  memory  of 
him  served  to  keep  many  of  his  following  in  the 
faith  when  all  other  props  failed.  Among  the 
traditions  of  the  Mission  recounted  by  the  dwin 
dling  band  of  neophytes  were  many  incidents  of 
his  great  -  heartedness,  and  one,  admonishing 

422 


THAT   I   SHOULD   SERVE   GOD— AND   YOU" 


THE  END   OF  THE  TRAIL 

them  to  steadfastness,  of  Marta,  the  story  of 
whose  life  and  heroic  end  showed  her  in  reced 
ing  time  a  sainted  figure  vanishing  between  the 
lines  of  lighted  trees  attended  by  a  host  of  flam 
ing  wings. 

It  was  reported  at  the  time  of  the  seculariza 
tion  of  the  Missions  that  one  and  another  of  the 
Padres  secretly  enriched  themselves  from  their 
accumulated  coin,  —  the  discoverable  amount  of 
which  fell  so  far  below  the  popular  estimate, — 
and  of  these  there  was  none  had  so  much  laid  to 
his  credit  as  Demetrio  Fages.  Certainly,  when 
one  considers  the  prelate  he  became,  knowing  the 
man  he  was,  one  might  well  believe  it ;  no  doubt 
he  found  his  opportunity  in  the  simple-seeming 
honesty  of  the  Padre  Presidente. 

Padre  Tomas  de  las  Penas  went  out  of  Califor 
nia  with  the  retiring  Franciscans,  bewept  by  his 
people;  but  being  a  single-hearted  man  of  few 
affections,  had  no  peace,  nor  gave  his  superiors 
any,  until  he  was  permitted,  as  he  believed  in 
answer  to  prayer,  to  return  to  his  children  of  the 
wilderness.  He  found  the  Mission  in  ruins,  the 
church  a  breeding-place  for  bats,  and  his  Indians 

423 


ISIDRO 

far  sunk  in  original  savagery.  A  few  of  them 
came  about  him  again,  remembering  his  simple 
jollity,  and  hungering,  no  doubt,  for  the  old 
order,  the  comfortable  meals,  the  ceremonial,  the 
show,  the  sense  of  things  orderly  and  secure. 
Neither  so  round  nor  so  rosy  after  a  few  years  of 
such  labors,  Padre  Tomas  set  his  hand  to  har 
vesting  the  few  lean  ears  that  a  mistaken  policy 
had  left  of  the  Franciscans'  splendid  sowing ;  and, 
it  is  well  to  believe,  in  that  business  wasted  what 
ever  of  sinful  flesh  he  had  clean  out  of  him,  for 
it  was  discovered  at  his  end  that  he  had  died  of 
want. 

Peter  Lebecque,  missing  the  Briar  from  the 
lonely  hut  of  the  Grapevine,  and  having  no  fancy 
for  annexing  another  woman,  perhaps  finding 
none  so  suited  to  his  taste  as  the  silent  Juana, 
took  to  wandering  again,  and  was  killed  by  a  bear 
under  an  oak  in  the  canon  of  El  Tejon,  in  1835, 
and  was  buried  there. 

Delfina  continued  an  uninterrupted  course  of 
busyness  about  other  people's  affairs  until  the 
influx  of  Gringos  drove  her  and  too  many  of  her 
race  on  a  lee  shore ;  after  that  she  became  very 

424 


THE  END   OF   THE   TRAIL 

religious,  as  ladies  of  her  metal  are  apt  to  be 
come,  and  was  to  be  seen  on  Sundays  and  Saints 
days  telling  a  rosary  in  the  church  of  San  Carlos. 
So  all  these,  having  danced  their  measure  in 
the  time  of  Escobar's  life,  passed  on  separate 
ways,  neither  more  merry  nor  more  sad  because 
of  it ;  but  as  for  Castro,  he  got  no  ease  of  his 
heart  hunger  until  he  held  a  grandchild  on  his 
knees  who  looked  at  him  with  Ysabel's  eyes,  and 
the  eyes  were  full  of  love. 


Eltctrotyped  and  printed  by  H.  O.  Houghton  &  Co. 
Cambridge,  Mass.,  U.S.  A. 


The 

LAND  oi  LITTLE  RAIN 

By  MARY  AUSTIN 


THIS  is  a  book  of  unique  interest  about  out-door 
life  in  the  arid  region  of  Southeastern  Califor 
nia.  It  describes  the  marvels  of  the  desert,  the  In 
dian,  the  Greaser,  and  the  gold-hunter,  the  strange 
birds  and  beasts  and  flowers  of  that  region,  with 
extraordinary  fidelity. 

."What  John  Muir  has  done  for  the  western  slopes  of 
the  Sierras,  with  their  solemn  forests  and  their  mys 
terious  silences,  Mrs.  Austin  does  in  a  more  tender 
and  intimate  fashion  for  the  eastern  slopes." 

Brooklyn  Eagle. 


With  full-page   and   marginal  illustrations   by 
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The 

BASKET  WOMAN 


By  MARY  AUSTIN 


"  Mary  Austin,  who  may  be  said  to  be  the  creator  of 
the  literature  of  the  great  California  desert,  as  Jack 
London  is  the  master  author  of  the  frozen  North,  and 
Stewart  Edward  White  of  '  The  Blazed  Trail '  coun 
try,  presents  in  The  Basket  Woman  an  interesting 
collection  of  legends  and  stories  gleaned  from  the 
Indian  tribes  of  California  and  the  Pacific  coast. 
"The  freshness  of  the  material  and  the  pleasant 
style  of  the  author  make  the  book  unusually  accept 
able  and  enjoyable." 

Chicago  Record-Herald. 


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